Random Flaky Oneshots
by AmIObsessed
Summary: This is like a Love For Red jr. xD Since I hate that my oneshots are single stories, I'm just going to put them all in here. Pretty much all of these are Flaky one shots, I do yuri, no yaoi. K to T, no M (unless it's for gore). Go ahead and request if you want, I may or may not do it though. Newest Chapter Pairing: LiftyxFlaky.
1. Chapter 1

**So, since I don't like when my one shots count as a whole story themselves—in my opinion, stories should be chapters long—I decided to just put them all in one story. This one is ShiftyxFlaky xD and he is somewhat a fashionista along with being an ass at times, or so Crystal persuaded me into thinking~**

* * *

Flaky didn't really know what to expect when she got sandwiched between a pair of twins on her morning stroll around the town park. Or why they suddenly thought they were included in the conversation she was having with Giggles about her style of clothing.

"So~" Lifty started.

"What was it that you girls were talking about?~ Bras and whatnot~?" Shifty teased.

"You two are a couple of perverts," Giggles said, rolling her eyes. She bent down after seeing that they were intent on staying, taking off her earrings and hiding them in her hot pink Mary Jane's, and pretended to adjust the strap her flats. There was no telling what the two boys would want, but it seemed to her that they always came out of the shadows to pick on her red headed friend. "What do you want, Shifty, Lifty?"

Shifty playfully ran his fingers through the trembling girl's hair, musing out loud, "Oh I dunno, but we just happened to pick up a few words here and there."

"And from what we heard," Lifty stroked her jawline with his thumb as he spoke, "you've got something against what Flaky's wearing?"

Whimpering softly, the small female shimmied out of their hold and chose to grab Giggle's arm for comfort, thinking that maybe if she had a friend to 'protect' her, the two would go away. Though, this rarely happened, even if she was hiding behind Flippy or even Splendid. . . "T-that's not it at all!"

Giggles pat her head softly, like a protective big sister, but when she looked back at the thieves, her fuchsia eyes were cold and held a warning within them. A warning that screamed out, 'Touch her again, and I'll rip both of your arms off to punch you with them'. "Actually, I was just saying that maybe she should mix up what she wears for you—Hey what are you doing!?"

Shifty had reached over and pulled the red head away from her arms, a sly smile on his face, "Really?~ Well, how about Lifty and I help her with that?"

No way. The sneaky duo would never offer to do anything without gaining something in return, and Giggles knew this. "And how would _you_ be able to help her with that? If you haven't noticed, this is sorta a girl thing. Boys don't know fashion like a girls!" Just to prove her point, she reapplied her lipstick and motioned to the short, very pink, summer dress she was wearing; along with her make up bag. "Prada, nothing less."

Clicking his tongue, Shifty shook his head, "Look, girly, how do you think all of this,"—he pointed to himself—"just happens overnight? You don't think that I work hard when I wake up to look hot? If I didn't, I'd look like dully mic dull boy over here." He tilted his head to his brother, saying that Lifty's casual appearance compared to his dressy attire was dull.

Lifty frowned, looking down at his white button up shirt and vest, then at his twin's crisper shirt, tie, scarf, and of course, the fedora. Okay, maybe he was right that he did prefer a more casual look over the spiffy one.

"And what would you do to help her?" Giggles still didn't trust them, but she couldn't help but think that maybe he knew a thing or two about clothing styles.

"Oh~ We'll just help her try on a few things~ Run along little girl, go home, we'll take care of her~"

xXx

It was like the clothes never kept coming . . ! This entire clothes hunting thing was starting to wear Flaky out, and all she was doing was trying them on.

After Giggles had hesitantly left when they assured her a tenth time that they weren't going to do anything bad, Shifty and Lifty had dragged her to the tiny, one story mall, into the closest store, and thrown her in one of the cramped, airless changing rooms. And for the past two hours, they had been tossing something new over the door and saying to try it on; this happening every few minutes.

Well, it was mostly Shifty who was giving her things to wear, Lifty had no clue what girl's thought was cute, let alone something that this girl would look good in.

Only once had he offered a shirt, showing Shifty and asking if it was alright, his response being, "Um, no. Are you color blind or something? Idiot, that color looks like fucking puke, it'd look terrible against Flaky's skin tone! Just go sit down and I'll take care of this."

Wearing an exasperated smile, the boy had gone to go sit on a bench, wondering how his twin could be such a gay faggot at times.

Shifty threw the fourth skirt he had found over to her and said, "Come on Flakes, you gotta pick up the pace, you're changing as slow as a fucking snail."

Flaky sighed, "W-well some of these things are kinda tight, it's hard to slide them on . ." Currently, she was struggling to pull on the new skirt while keeping on her old one, the thought of being half naked—even in a closed off room—made her more than just uncomfortable.

"God, Flaky you're taking forever, open the door and I'll help you."

Blushing at the idea of having someone help her put on a skirt, she stammered, "N-no! it's fine! I think I-I got it! You d-don't have to help me!" Trying to get her racing heart rate under control, she pushed her warm cheek on the dressing room mirror, wondering if she could just say she had tried everything on and actually just stand there. She was starting to think she might go with that idea . . . when she heard the lock on the door click and open. "H-huh!"

It opened a little more, allowing Shifty to look in, smirking as he held up a battered plastic card, "I know how to pick locks, how do you think Lifty and I sneak into people's houses?~"

"S-Shifty close the door!" Even if she wasn't undressed in the slightest way, besides her thigh socks taken off, she still didn't like that the male had invaded her privacy. Through her embarrassment she tried pushing him out, "I-I can do this m-myself!"

Hm, maybe this could be more interesting than he had originally thought it would be.

Grabbing her wrist and noticing the way she was pulling the skirt on, he shook his head, hiding the slyness in his voice, "Now Flaky, you didn't actually think that you'd be able to pull that on without taking something off, right?" He shut the door and spun her around, chuckling when he saw the color in her face deepen.

"W-what do y-you mean?" she asked, tugging her wrist away from his hand and nervously tucking her bangs behind her ear.

"Mm, you gotta take your regular skirt off first, silly girl~" Suppressing the wide grin, Shifty lowered himself so he was kneeled on the floor, hands gripping her waist. He almost started laughing when he slid them down her figure through the sweater, slipping them under the skirt that was stuck halfway up her thighs.

"First we'll take this off~" he tugged it down, ignoring her squeak of surprise when his fingers dragged on the flesh of her legs, sending shivers up her spine.

Breaths beginning to quicken, she swallowed as his hands traveled back up teasingly, gulping when he hooked his fingers onto her normal skirt.

"Then this one goes~"

This was going too far, she realized when she felt the new draft, pulling her sweater down to cover her black underwear and exposed legs. "A-aha o-okay I think I c-can pull the other one on b-by myself now!" Jumping when she felt him slip his hands under her sweater and push it up, she bit her lip, fearing what was happening.

"Aww~ but you don't even have a shirt to go with the skirt yet~" Shifty nudged her forward, eyes growing a lustful shine as he pushed her up against the mirror, pelvic pressed up against her backside. He chuckled when he heard her squeak quietly, the sweater being pulled up past her chest and hiding her face, blocking everything from her view.

"S-Shifty . . !?"

"Shh, I know what I'm doing, and I know exactly what you would look so fucking hot in~" he leaned in, and through the sweater's material, whispered, "Nothing~"

Flaky, shaking and feeling him trace her abdomen seductively, started crying out of her panic. "Y-you're scaring—"

". . . Flaky?"

Shifty stopped, hands freezing on her hips as he scowled, whispering out, "Shit." He turned his head slowly, laughing uneasily as he saw who had opened the unlocked dressing room door and was staring at them, eyes narrowing when they saw the thief's face. "Hehe . . Hey there . . Flippy . ."

* * *

**Boo-yah. If you want to give a request, go ahead, but I'm not going to do M rated stuff because I suck at lemons :/ If you want stuff like that, wait until Crystal opens hers up again. I'm not promising anything since this is mostly going to be made up of one shots I wrote for myself, but if I do get any requests I'll try to write them. Just do what you did for Crystal's harem thingy to request xD**


	2. Cleaning

**Alright, so the first request was from a loser named crystalblue19~**

**Shipping: Male!PetuniaxFlaky**

**Rating: T**

**Word: Cleaning**

**No before you ask, Petunia was born a male in this story, she did not change her parts. It's genderbent, people. xD He's also a bit more physical than her, in my mind at least.**

* * *

"Fww," Flaky sat up and wiped her forehead, her back aching from bending over for more than an hour. She dropped the sponge she was holding in a nearby plastic wash bucket, beaming when she saw just how shiny her kitchen floor was after all of her hard labor.

Since the peak of dawn she had been up and around, scrubbing, dusting, wiping, and bleaching almost every last thing in her house. The reason for this, was, it was that time of the year again in Happy Tree Town; spring cleaning!

Every one of her friends knew just how important it was to do their part and get the town clean, but not because they actually took spring cleaning seriously. In all honesty, they thought it was a waste of time, one day filled with just cleaning? Everything was going to get dirty again once they cleaned it, so why would they do it? The answer was simple.

Petunius.

The clean freak was always spazzing out whenever he went somewhere, whether it be the mall, the store, or even the park, and saw that it wasn't as tidy as he wanted it to be. If he saw a piece of trash on the floor, he'd have a panic attack; if it was a smudge on the window, he'd freeze and stare at it, breathing heavily and bathed in sweat until it was wiped; and the most recent drama play had happened when he saw mud splattered all over his car from driving after it had rained. He had nearly put himself in a comma because of it.

Furious at how shabby and poorly taken care of the town was, he had gone to city hall and filed a complaint.

And of course, they had ignored him.

But after hanging up hundreds of fliers, running campaigns, and even creating a traffic disturbance when he was trying to sweep up all of the debris off of the roads, the mayor had begrudgingly passed the rule. So now, every year, the friends would have to slave away and scrub their fingers to bone while trying to get the town to be its cleanest, hoping this would keep his outbursts at bay for another year.

Standing up and slowly realigning her back, Flaky's eyes swept over the room, satisfaction crossing her face. In the five hours and forty-six minutes she had been working, she had managed to scrub down her room, the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and all that was left was her front yard. She was just about to pull out her gardening gloves from the cabinet under the sink, when she heard the chiming of her doorbell.

"Mm?" Already suspecting who it was, she wiped her hands using a paper towel and walked through her living room, reaching the front door. She opened it and smiled softly, giggling. "Oh! I-I knew it was going to be you P-Petunius!"

The blue haired male looked up at her, smiled, and put away the spray bottle and rag he had been used to clean the doorbell before pressing it. "Hey Flaky, I'm just coming around to check that everyone is working, you know how these things don't clean themselves."

"Ehe, y-yeah," Flaky stepped aside and let him in, following the instructions she had memorized from the spring cleaning manual that he had mailed out two weeks previous. The manual had said that he was going to come to all of their houses and have a quick inspection of the place, stating whether it was clean enough for them to stop, or if it was a house for rats that couldn't be inhabited.

She watched anxiously, tugging on her tied up hair, as he walked around her living room, the inspection starting. And do not, again, do _not_ dare think that these inspections were easy to pass; Petunius had set the highest standards and would only accept the house's conditions if it met them. If he were to find even the tiniest speck of dirt or grim anywhere, he would force you to leave while he 'fixed the problem', this taking three to four days at minimum—even if it was a minor problem.

Nibbling her bottom lip, her eyes never left him as he ran his index finger over the surfaces of her furniture and lifting it up to see if it had collected any dust; luckily it hadn't. While he was working, his face fixed in concentration, she couldn't help but think that he looked a bit . . . cute.

Flaky would be lying if she said that her friend wasn't good looking, because for a guy, he could be described as beautiful in her words. With his deep indigo eyes, the slight muscle that stood out from under his blue and white long sleeve shirt when he moved around, and the smoothness of his deep voice—when he wasn't screaming in panic.

The way he laughed at something, brushing his sky blue bangs away from his forehead in a small unintended flip, when he was in a relaxed mood. How he could be caring and helpful, usually lending an extra hand to Handy, guiding The Mole across the street, or just helping her move her things around. Even offering to accompany her when she had gone to comfort Flippy during his depressed state after a mass murder. He really was sweet when he wanted to be, and he could have been a natural born lady charmer . . but his phobia of anything yucky would always get in the ways of that.

The other girls couldn't even stand his OCD when they recalled the past dates they had with him and how he had embarrassed them by wanting them to brush their teeth while in the bathroom, telling them to turn around while they ate so he wouldn't have to see them chew, and even making a scene in front of everyone when something didn't go as he wanted it to.

It didn't really bug her, though, at least, it hadn't bugged her since he had stopped trying to wash her hair to death, hoping to get rid of her dandruff.

Flaky hadn't even realized that she had been lost in thought for minutes now until she caught him staring at her curiously, noticing that she was openly ogling at him. Blushing, she coughed and found that he was almost done surveying her house when he nodded and said,

"You did a pretty nice job cleaning, good for you," Petunius smiled and pat her head, secretly wiping his hand on his pants afterwards as he made his way to the door. "You've done you're part, Flaky, you can relax now—" Suddenly, he stiffened, eyes locked on the area above her chest.

Turning red again under his sudden stare, she rubbed her arm, "P-Petunis?"

Eye twitching rapidly as he started grinding his teeth, he said in a breathless tone, "Y-you have a stain o-on the front of your shirt. Haha, heh, hm!" He clapped his hands together, his smile quivering when he couldn't pull his eyes away from the offensive stain she probably had gotten when she had cleaned under the bathroom sink.

She smiled, beginning to feel nervous as she covered the mark with her hand, "O-oh! Sorry about that! I-I'll go take care of this, you can . . g-go check out the other houses . . !"

He stared at her, struggling to keep from yelling and kicking a hole in the wall, "Are you sure? Because, I think that m-maybe I should help you clean it . . ! Yeah! I'll help you get that stain out and—and—ehaha!"

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was losing it, giving in to his psychological problem as he started grasping and releasing his necklace to distract himself.

"N-no! I'm fine, really, I'm sure this will come out when I throw it in t-the washer—"

"Wrong," Petunius interrupted her. "That should be hand washed. I can do it! You won't even see the stain anymore when I'm done with it!" Chuckling, his body starting to grow twitchy the longer he waited. He smiled at her, eyes widening in urgency.

Okay, he was defiantly off of his nut now.

Staring at him, remembering how harsh he had been while rinsing her hair—he had been using his knuckles to scrub her head in attempts of getting the ever constant flakes out; his _knuckles_—and how it had lasted from the early afternoon to the late evening, she wasn't going to chance it.

"W-well . . Don't worry about it . . because . . i-it's time for you to go!" Flaky squeaked and spun around, repeating for him to leave as she fast walked down the hallway. She was going to lock herself in her room, knowing how persistent the boy could be when he wanted something clean, he wouldn't leave until some other problem that involved dirt came up.

Nervous sweat gathering in her palms, she tried opening her door knob, panicking when the moistness kept refusing to let her open it. She flinched when another hand dropped on hers, pulling it away from the knob.

"Just let me take care of it first . . !"

xXx

Panting, Flaky blinked through the darkness that filled her closest; yes, her closest, the one in the hallway to be exact. Petunius was crazy, just plain crazy. He had chased her all around her house, then around her yard, then around the neighborhood while screaming that the stain was just getting worse.

Luckily, she had been able to climb over the gate that led to Pop and Cub's yard—and due to her great luck, fell into Cub's kiddy pool on the way—and cut through to make it back to her house before he could figure out where she had gone. She had locked all the doors and windows then crawled into the back corner of the closest, hidden under a pile of winter coats.

But sure enough, half an hour later she had heard an urgent knocking at the door that didn't seem like it would be ceasing. Or at least she thought it wouldn't; for the last twenty minutes she hadn't heard a sound besides her muffled breathing.

It was about time that he had left her alone.

Flaky edged to the closest door and strained her ears to pick up the slightest peep, but hearing nothing. She opened it slowly, looking both ways before crawling out and sighing, exhausted by all the running. She was about to get up and find something to eat, but then the low creaking of wood as it struggled to support something heavy made her stop. Already whimpering, she looked behind her,

Finding Petunius pushed up against the wall next to the closest, standing on top of her hallway table.

"A-Ah!" She screamed in fright when he hopped down from the table and, smiling widely now that he had found her, bent down by her. "N-no! H-how did you get in here!?"

"I crawled in through you're doggy door, but that's not important. I promise this'll be super quick! Just don't move too much so I can get that ugly little stain out!" He threw one of his legs over her, lowering himself so he could put his elbows on the floor and clean her shirt proficiently.

Face flaring up, she wondered if he was able to think straight in the state he was in. Because, maybe if he could, he would have reconsidered straddling her just to clean a measly stain. She stammered, feeling the rough material of his pants rub against her thigh, bunching her skirt up as he adjusted his position into one where he could better attack the nuisance.

"P-Petunius! G-get off of—" Sentence being cut short, she gasped, staring at the ceiling as all the blood in her rushed to her cheeks and settled there. The cause of her major embarrassment was a certain hand that had made its way down the front of her shirt. "W-W-W-Wha-!"

Oblivious to her red face, Petunius was only focused on the stain. Moving his hand around in what room he had in her shirt, he pushed up the spot where the stain was and started feverishly rubbing it with the extra stain remover he always carried in his back pocket.

He could've been paying less attention to the flushed girl as he continued his cleaning, not knowing that he was even making her uncomfortable. The only reason he had shoved his hand between her breasts, anyways, was just to get the stain out~

Yup, this was how spring cleaning went every year.

* * *

**That's done with :3 So yes, I am taking gender swapped characters too 8D If anyone can think of a better name for him—because Crystal and I really suck at names—I'd be so happy to hear it!**

**Up next:**

**SplendontxFlaky /T/ [Personal] Space for darkmoonstar309**

**ShiftyxFlaky /T/ Band for darkmoonstar309 (x3 she took advantage of the multiple request thing~)**

**SplendidxFlaky /T/ Rose for StarKingdom99**

**KA-CHOW! Then I have one or two ideas I want to write for myself~ Hope you liked this xD**


	3. Personal Space

**This one shot is for darkmoonstar309!**

**Shipping: SplendontxFlaky**

**Rating: T**

**Word: [Personal] Space**

**It's so much easier to write in the past . . so I did c: Italicized means the past~**

* * *

This was starting to get awkward.

Flaky put her fork down on the side of her plate and pushed her chair away from the dinner table, getting up and excusing herself. "Excuse me but . . I-I'm full and a little tired . . so I'm going to bed . ." She pushed her bangs away from her eyes and walked away from where the only other red head was seated at, his crimson eyes following her as he got up too.

It had all started out three days ago, the day he started refusing to give her any space for just herself . . .

_The small red head was walking through the aisles of the supermarket, looking at her list of things she needed. "Let's see . . sponges . . milk . . eggs . ." She kept mumbling the essentials to herself, distracted from where she was going, and eventually bumping into someone's back. "Oh!"_

_Blushing from her clumsiness, she apologized quickly to the back of their head, "I-I am so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't s-see where I was walking and it's completely my f-fault that you got pushed and—and—I apologize for that!"_

_They turned around, unphased that she had bumped into them and by her apologies. Crimson eyes met with hers as they said in a bored tone, "It's no problem. You apologize too easily, you know that right. It's a bit pathetic."_

_Seeing the blue mask and the familiar face, she sighed in relief, "S-Splendont, it's you!" She relaxed knowing that it wasn't some random person who would go all gorilla on her because she wasn't looking forward while walking. "R-really? I'm sorry . . I d-don't mean to look pathetic . ." Poking her fingers together, she looked at what he had in his cart so she wouldn't have to look at him straightly. _

_He grunted, annoyed that she was apologizing for apologizing so much. "Yeah, go back to your shopping, Flaky." Turning around, he pushed his cart away and could almost swear he heard her whisper out another apology._

_ An hour later, Splendont was waiting in line to pay—yes even super heroes have to wait like any other person—when he saw Flaky fast walk from aisle to another. He didn't really pay attention to it, she was probably just in a hurry to get her things and leave. But then when she left that aisle in favor of another, he raised an eyebrow, noticing the somewhat scared look on her face._

_ "Hm."_

_ There she went again, switching to another, her legs moving faster as she ditched her cart and nearly ran down the row. Maybe she was in danger, or someone was following her? There were a couple of creepers in Happy Tree Town, mostly Disco Bear, and knowing how scared she was of the pervert, maybe that was the reason why she was running away._

_He began wondering why she hadn't started crying for help when he saw what he thought was the problem. It was almost a stupid reason to run, in his opinion, but he did watch for a moment or two to see what did happen._

_At the end of the row she was running down, two green haired figures stepped out, clearly scaring her as she stopped and ran back the way she came. Watching in some fascination, his eyes followed her running figure just as another boy with lighter, green-yellow hair jumped onto her back from God knows where, shrieking in delight and asking if she had any chocolate with her. _

_This was getting strange . . He almost didn't expect it when a taller male dressed in army attire ran to her aid from where he was standing in line at and tried prying off the screaming boy from her back. And apparently the screaming had been mistaken as a cry for help by, who else but his idiot twin brother, Splendid as he appeared from the bread aisle. _

_Seeing that there was a struggle between the three, he seemed to think that the shrieks had come from Flaky instead of the boy who refused to let her go. Watching as his brother speed towards them and yanked Flaky off of the ground and into his arms, he almost laughed when the two other boys who had previously stopped her rode by them on top of her cart, reached out, and snatched her out of the arms of the known hero._

_It then started to become a game of chase and keep away combined, except that Flaky wasn't having as much fun as the rest. The unhappy, embarrassed look on her face made him almost feel sorry for her, but just a little._

"_That'll be eight fifty, sir."_

_Ignoring the cashier, he knew what he had to do._

Flaky closed the door to her room and changed into a pair of flannel pajamas, shutting off the light and crawling under her covers. She was glad that at least he wouldn't follow her in here . . or . . Maybe he would . . Not fully sure how far the hero would cross the line she had set, she shut her eyes and sighed softly, red dusting her smooth cheeks.

"_E-eh . . !" Flaky, having gotten away from the hands of the others, ran out of the store and hid behind a close by vending machine, regaining her breath before checking to see if they had followed her. Seeing no one, she let her guard down, "W-what was up with them t-today . ."_

"_Who knows," a male's voice said, "Does this happen often."_

"_Wha-!?" she jumped, heart skipping two beats as she heard the question, not having expected to have someone come up from behind her instead on in the front. Shaking, she turned, seeing their vivid hair color, "It's y-you again!"_

_Splendont rolled his eyes, "Way to state the obvious, genius. You didn't answer my question, does this happen often. You being chased around."_

_Blushing, she looked down and laughed self-consciously, "M-my friends like to play . ."_

"_I hardly call that playing; more like harassment," he looked at his nails, stealing glances at her occasionally. "And you don't do anything about this, is it because you're weak."_

"_Huh!? N-no—I guess I am w-weak but—that's not the reason! I d-don't know how to get them to s-stop teasing me is a-all . . !"_

_So that was the reason why, the timid girl didn't know how to tell them when enough was enough. _

"_Well, you can't be running away from them anymore. You need some kind of bodyguard. Just don't think that I'm going to help you whenever you cry for help, but I'll be keeping a close eye on you." Keeping his explanation short and serious, he nodded and turned away, leaving her confused and asking herself if Splendont, the guy who rarely liked to help anyone if he would gain nothing from it, had just offered to . . be her bodyguard?_

Opening the door as quietly as he could, Splendont looked inside of her room, seeing her sleeping figure with unblinking eyes. Almost like he was inclined to, he opened the door a few inches and slid in, the click of it closing barely making a sound as the girl continued to sleep on.

_At first she had thought it might be nice to have someone looking out after her, but she never expected it to be so . . creepy. Just knowing that there was a person watching her every move, seeing where she went, and sometimes making their presence known when people got too close to her, it was unnerving._

_ Most of the time, if there was another male having physical contact with her, even in the smallest of ways, her 'bodyguard' would appear out of thin air and pull the offender aside. She was only able to hear a few growled out words, but it seemed to be enough to drive that boy away; and when he had pulled Nutty to the side, he had even caused the sugar addict to start crying on the spot._

_ Unsure if these threats were life threatening or not, she would brush them off, glad that when she was shopping that there were no more games of keep away._

_ But when she noticed that these friends started retreating when she entered the building or just walked on the same side of the street as them, she began worrying about the effect Splendont was having on them. _

_The always serious male had not only chased away half of her friends, but he had started being openly possessive of her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder or glaring at anyone who passed by and talked to her._

_ Even after the others stopped touching her and only talked about light subjects like the weather or an event that was coming up, he wouldn't leave her side; actually, he wouldn't let _her _leave_ his_ side. The only time he'd actually let her go somewhere alone would be to the restroom and her bedroom . . Every other time he'd be right behind her despite the signs that she gave that said she wanted him to leave . ._

_ He had trailed behind her when she was taking Cub to the park, sat behind her in the movie theaters—keeping his eyes on her instead of the actual movie, she would add—and just a few hours before he had squished her up between him and the end of the couch while she was trying to watch her show. . . _

_ Her space . . it was being violated . . but Splendont didn't care . ._

Flaky awoke, feeling the bed shift as a weight was added to the side she wasn't using. Fear making her stiffen up, she craned her head slowly and, even without any light, she spotted the set of crimson eyes locked on hers. "What— . . . !" She blushed when she felt his strong arm wrap around her waist, head buried in the crook of her neck as he grunted to go to sleep.

_Because, frankly, he didn't give a damn about giving her personal space._

* * *

**AHHH I feel tired because I forced myself to write this when I didn't have the motive to xD**

**Up Next:**

**(I did two requests, so I deserve to add my own one shot next!)**

**ShiftyxFlaky /T/ Band for darkmoonstar309**

**SplendidxFlaky /T/ Rose for Starkingdom99**

**LiftyxFlaky /T/ Cold Night for koyamon-lover**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949**

**. . . xD I am asking myself why have all my requests been T rated when I said I could do K and K plus too XD I'm starting to think that you would have all done M if I had allowed it . . !?**


	4. Chapter 4

**THIS IS FOR MEEE YAY. Alright, this is either a high T or a low-ish M. I said I do M for gore . . and I did :3 Warning: Some implied dirtiness and crappy gore, enjoy? This was inspired by the song Sluts Get Guts, another song, and classic horror movies.**

* * *

Flaky hummed softly as she washed her plate, relishing in the quietness of her house, the only sound the gentle streaming of water splashing in the sink.

It was a Friday night and she was home all alone, her friends having had plans to go out and have fun wasting the night away. They had invited her, each one of them, but she had denied them because she desperately needed time to herself. Sure, she liked hanging out with them, but it was nice to just keep to yourself every once and a while. And tonight was the perfect time to do that, why?

Because it wasn't just a normal Friday night; it just happened to be the night of Halloween, of course.

Being the paranoid girl she was, she was always cautious about these kinds of things. Now, there was a line dividing being superstitious and being paranoid; superstitious people believed in myths and legends, paranoia filled people were just frightened of things that could possibly happen. She could never be too careful . . especially after hearing about how all the bad spirits were let out of their confinement and allowed to reign over the surface of the earth to wreak havoc for this one night of the year.

Deaths, tricks, bad luck, it would all happen tonight to any oblivious person who had the nerve to leave their homes. Even if death did happen every day in the most gruesome ways possible, she didn't want to be sliced into pieces of spaghetti or be found chopped up and thrown into a ditch.

Her scrubbing slowed as she lingered on the thought, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of her face. ". . ." What if she had chosen to go out and some psycho had picked that night to carry out his plan of death . .

_He would find her huddled up, trying to hide behind her friend's corpses, and drag her along after him. They'd go to the basement under his house and he'd tie her to the metal table, the blinding florescent light bulb dangling above her, showing the sheet of sweat covering her face as she whimpered. The clicking of feet against the damp floor would be followed by a deep chuckle, the man stepping out into the light._

_Catching sight of the surgical knife in his hand, the light bouncing off it and fading into the shadows surrounding them, she'd begin to cry and fear what was coming. He'd step closer, pulling up her sweater and placing a cold hand on her abdomen, her squirming giving him a sick pleasure. Telling her that once he was done she'd be the most beautiful thing ever, he'd lower the scythe and make a small incision above her belly button._

_Though the knife couldn't have been anymore warmer than his hands, it felt like fire as he broke through the sensitive plushy skin, the burning sending a chill up her spine. She'd let out a scream of pain as he continued to carve shapes on her stomach, eventually dragging it down to her legs, or up to her torso. The night would be spent with him dragging the sharp tip of it over her body, her pained screams fading into nothing when he finally made it to her neck._

_In the morning, he'd leave the basement, wiping his hands on a blood stained cloth and shutting the door behind him. _

_There she would be on the table still, the sound of dripping breaking the silence that not even her breathing filled. Her lifeless crimson eyes would be staring at the flickering light bulb, it casting a dim light over her body, or to be more precise, body parts._

_They were still all there on the table, but separated in the act of disembowelment, straightened out so she looked whole from afar and up close you'd be able to see the gaps between the fleshes, not even sinews connecting them. Written on her forehead in black ink would be the word, 'Beautiful'._

Heart quickening at what could happen, she finished washing the dish and dried it, standing on the tips of her toes as she reached up to put it in one of the kitchen's cabinets.

_Ring!_

"Ah!" She jumped at the sudden noise, the plate slipping from her hand and landing with a crash as it shattered on the floor. "N-not again . . ." Pushing the pieces that could stab her in the foot aside, she grabbed the phone off of the wall, leaning on the island in the middle of her kitchen. "H-hello?"

There was a small pause before someone said, "Hey Flaky; it's Lammy! I was wondering, do you want to go to Giggles' Halloween party with me? I heard that it's a costume party and that you didn't have any plans tonight, so I thought it'd be fun . . Girl's night! With free candy and punch!" The French girl sounded excited, hoping that she could get her friend to go with her and maybe wear a costume. They could be matchers if they wanted to!

"O-oh," Flaky shook her head, even if Lammy couldn't see the action through the phone, "sorry, but I-I don't think I should . ."

"Why not?"

Shrugging and anxiousness clear in her voice, she said, "I j-just get the worst feeling about Halloween . . Every year it's like this . . Sorry L-Lammy, but maybe we can go somewhere tomorrow? . ."

". . Uh . . y-yeah sure!" Joking around, she answered with, "Plus, the candy's gonna be on sale tomorrow anyway! We can clean out the stores and just watch scary movies at your house tomorrow night! Our own private, day late, Halloween party!"

Flaky giggled at her enthusiasm, "S-sure! Sounds like fun—" she heard a beeping in her ear, signaling another caller. "Oh, Lammy h-hold on, there's someone on the other line." She clicked the button and held it back to her ear, "Hello?"

"_Hey there Flakers."_

She stopped breathing, a prickly feeling dancing on the back of her neck, "W-who is this?"

"_Oh you have to guess,"_ they purred out, _"it wouldn't be as much fun if you didn't guess."_

Licking her dry lips, she grabbed the end of the counter for support, worried that her wobbling legs wouldn't support her. "U-um . . I-I don't know . ."

"_Yes you do~ try again."_

"I-is this S-Shifty?" It was a pathetic guess, but she didn't want to know who it was . .

"_No~ I feel hurt, I know who you are and you don't know who I am? Tsk tsk tsk. I thought you were a smarter girl than that, put some effort in it."_

Gulping, she stammered, "H-how did you g-get my number?"

"_Don't you remember? You had already given it to_ him_ before you started to ignore us~ it really did make him depressed, he thought you were his friend. No matter though, because tonight you'll get what's coming to you~ be expecting my visit, bye Flakers."_

She was frozen, staring out the window above her sink as Lammy's voice came back onto the phone.

"Flaky? You still there? Flaky?"

"I-I have to call you back . . !" Hanging up and putting the phone back on its stand, she ran out the kitchen and to the front door, panting from fear as she locked the extra padlock and looked through the peephole. No one was outside . . not yet . . The panicky feeling crawling up her body, she ran up her stairs and started checking the windows, glad to see that they were all locked, even the one above her shower that let the steam out.

She walked out of her bathroom, sighing as the scared feeling left her, a dull feeling taking its place instead as she fell back on her bed. There was nothing to worry about, _he_ couldn't get in after all the protection Splendid and Sniffles had added to her house.

Strange to think about how many months it had been since they had any contact at all. She didn't blame Splendid for keeping her away from him . . it was for her own good . . She even had to tell him that—she shut her eyes at the memories—she didn't want him being around her anymore . . It had hurt for weeks afterwards, knowing that whenever she went somewhere he would have to go to a place exactly opposite of her, having to ignore his calls, and even telling their friends not to bring her up when he was around . .

Concerned for her safety, Splendid had taken it into his own hands to change her number and block the male from her phone. He had even gone to extreme lengths and threatened him himself, warning though bared teeth that if he even stepped fifteen feet within Flaky's range that he would have to deal with the hero.

"Mm . .—" She opened her eyes, something telling her to sit up as the feeling returned, focusing on her mirror. "W-what!"

_I can see you. _

Flaky gulped at the words written in what looked like the lipstick she never used. That . . that hadn't been there when she had come in to check her bathroom . . He was . . in the house . . He had been in her room . . He had gotten past all the alarms without setting even one off . . She squeaked in fear as her portable phone vibrate this time.

Hands shaking, she opened it with some difficulty, "Y-y-yes?"

"_Come out of your room and walk down your hall. You're not getting out of this house without me knowing, Flaky, you have no choice. Just listen to what I'm telling you and do it."_

". . . O-okay," Knowing he was being serious, she got up, whimpering, and walked to the closed door, opening it and stepping out into the hallway. It felt drafty all of a sudden and . . she didn't remember turning off the lights . .

The man's voice held a smirk in it as he spoke again, _"Aren't we being obedient today, what a good little girl. Now, go downstairs and walk into your living room, be careful not to trip on the way down~"_

Tearing up, she went down the hallway, sliding against the wall and wishing that she could just sink into it. Her haggard breathing seemed louder in her ears as she made it to the top of the steps, taking one step at a time. Her descent down was okay, she hadn't tripped . .

"_Good, now go to the window and you'll see get to see what I wrote for you~"_

"Eh e-eh . ." Flaky shuffled forward, touching her furniture through the darkness to figure out where she was going and finding her way to the window. She pulled the curtains apart, trembling at the message that stood out against the light of the streetlamps in the background.

_I want to touch you._

"No . . !" Shaking her head, she shut them and backed up, hands covering her mouth as she imagined the rough hands spreading over her body and touching her wherever they pleased. "N-no! Stay away!" The picture wouldn't leave her mind. She imagined the same scenario as before, but this time it was the green haired maniac that was tying her down, the table transforming into a bed as she screamed and struggled.

His hands would trail up and down her body, ripping her clothes, hot breath on her skin. She could almost hear the animalistic growl in her ear as she gripped her sweater, breathing heavily at the thought it happening . . a-again . . "N-no . . d-don't . . please!"

"_I hope you liked that, Flakers~ don't you miss the times that me and you had? You always did look so good when you were in that position, your hair plastered to your forehead, cheeks flushed, and the look of pain and fear on your face. It was so arousing~ if only you could have seen it. If you had, you would know why I just had to write that, I had to let you know."_

"S-stop it!" Flaky cried out into the phone, sure that wherever he was, he was having a laugh seeing her freak out like this. "I don't w-want to d-do that! I n-never did!" Wiping her eyes, her voice came out shaky, "L-leave me a-a-alone!"

"_But you haven't even seen the last of it yet. Just one more stop~ walk into the kitchen and read what's on the wall, sweetheart."_ The line went dead; he had hung up.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked towards the kitchen to see that it was the only room with its light still on, an obvious sign that she shouldn't go in there. Maybe if she could open the front door and escape . . But the same something from before warned her that she shouldn't, it would only anger him.

"A-alright . . I'm c-coming . ." She left the living room, and facing her fears, walked into the kitchen. Everything seemed perfectly normal, nothing was out of its place, it was the same as when she—. . The fear. It was back. And worse than ever as she saw what was smeared on the wall above her table.

_I'm right here now._

"W-what!" Flaky turned around, saw the yellow, blood thirsty eyes, and felt the burning in his stomach. It was like the knife in her dream imagination . . except this one was ten times worse.

She was slammed back against the wall, the air pushed out of her as she looked down, single tears falling down onto the thing embedded in her. A-an axe . . . There wasn't any pain yet, the shock keeping it at bay while she tried to register what was happening.

She was positive that she saw blood dripping down onto the floor, staining her sweater, and sliding down her legs, so why was it that she didn't feel it yet? Was this good or was it bad? Seeing the hands on the wooden handle tighten, the female was brought back into her body from her shocked state. The body that had been cut open by a tool used to chop down trees.

Its sharp edge had easily cut through her sweater and tank top at the speed and strength the psychotic solider had swung it at her at, meeting the soft skin hidden underneath. Cutting through the skin used to protect and seal in her inner organs, it was now lodged inside of her, letting her feel its presence as he refused to pull it out.

He wanted to see her suffer.

". . ." Then, there it was. Her scream of agonized pain as she placed her hands over his and tried to pull the axe out of herself, resulting in his smirk when she got nowhere except causing it to move an inch to the side. "M-mm!" She was clenching her teeth, eyes shut tightly as she felt it shift, slowly being pulled out, her tears staining her face.

Stumbling, she tried covering the wound with one arm while using the other to hold herself up against the wall. She gasped for air, feeling the warmness gush onto her arm, soaking through the sweater sleeve and bathing her skin in the thick liquid.

Fliqpy watched her cry with an amused, twisted smile; her pain was his joy. Bending forward, he pushed her hair away from her ear and whispered, "Did you enjoy your gift, Flakers~ I've been waiting so long to give it to you, but you never seemed to be around when I came out~"

Sliding to the floor, she turned over to face the ground, coughing; a string of blood hanging down from her open mouth and touching the floor until she wiped it. With its irony taste coating her tongue and smeared against her chapped lips, she whimpered out, "I-I . ."

"You, you, what? It's always about little innocent Flaky isn't it~? Always being babied over and taken care of. Well you know what," dipping his head lower to hers, he said, "I could fucking care less." Chuckling at her damp, pleading face, he leaned over to where the pieces of the broken plate were laying and leisurely picked one up.

"Poor, poor Flaky, so vulnerable and so easy to take care of," He placed the tip of the piece to her forehead, making sure it was lined up and placed perfectly in the middle. Sneering at her, he balled up his fist, "Sometimes I don't know what Flippy sees in you, besides being so easy to fuck. You're nothing more than a fucking slut."

Eyes full of fear, she tried scooting back as he raised the fist, "N-no p-please!—"

_Quersh._

xXx

"Fllaaakkky?" Lammy called out as she opened the red head's door with the spare key she kept under her welcome mat. Setting the key and the bag of candy with a reduced price tag on the couch, she walked through her leaving room, looking up the stairs. "Flaky? You here? I bought the candy already."

"You should've gone with me to the party!" She continued talking as she turned to the kitchen, thinking that maybe her friend was eating her breakfast. "It was so much fun! Cuddles won the bobbing for apples contest and you should've seen Cro-Marmot's costu—. . ." She stopped at the door, eyes wide as she covered her mouth, screaming, "F-FLAKY!"

The girl was on the ground, a pool of blood gathered around her, the deep crimson color contrasting against her pale skin. Lodged in between the middle of her eyes, stuck in her forehead, was the broken piece of the plate, looking like it had been punched in through her skull at least two inches deep. Lines of the dried up liquid had streamed down and encircled her dull, lifeless eyes, her mouth open in a silent plea.

But that wasn't what disturbed the French girl most . . it was her stomach area that really got her breakfast climbing up into her throat. She was practically cut in half, the material of her sweater sticking to the raw flesh and letting her see more of what was inside of her friend than she wanted.

Running to her side, Lammy fell to her knees, crying as she cradled her head in her lap, "O-oh my G-God . . ! Flaky . . you idiot . . why didn't you go out with me when I asked you to . . !?" Sniffling, she looked at her face, spotting something written on either side of her face on both cheeks. "H-huh . ."

_Fucking_ and _Slut._

"What a stupid bitch, someone should tell her how many people die while staying home on a Halloween~" Smiling, razor sharp teeth showing, Fliqpy shut the door to his jeep and drove away, satisfied with himself—especially since he had his counterpart watch the entire thing while it happened. "She won't forgive us now~"

* * *

**I like to believe that he killed her after midnight and that's why she's still dead. Well . . I killed off my favorite character :/ Lol it's not Halloween but who cares! Not me apparently xD (Genderbent story? Said I'd ask this in my other stories. Should I do it?)**

**Up Next:**

**ShiftyxFlaky /T/ Band for darkmoonstar 309**

**SplendidxFlaky /T/ Rose for Starkingdom99**

**LiftyxFlaky /T/ Cold Night for koyamon-lover**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Lollipop for crystalblue19 (yup, I updated this one instead of the one I told you I would xD)**

**Go ahead and flame me for this, I totally knew what I was getting into when I made Fliqpy kill Flaky with no love 8D**


	5. Band

**AHA finally updated this xD Request from darkmoonstar309!**

**Shipping: ShiftyxFlaky**

**Rating: T**

**Word: Band**

**xXx**

Giggles stopped, feet planted to the sidewalk as she refused to move out from the middle of it, and cupped her mouth with both hands. Her fuchsia eyes glittered in anticipation while she expected her boyfriend, Cuddles, to laugh and say 'Gotcha!' like he did whenever he had fooled her about something. And when he didn't . . she burst out in squeals while fanning herself, jumping from foot to foot and laughing hysterically - otherwise known as the act of fangirling.

"Oh my gosh oh my gosh no way!" She squealed even louder, face flushing brighter. She jumped on the blonde, her slender arms wrapping around his neck in a rib cracking hug. He would be the first to admit that his girlfriend had strength on her, strength that would make a muscle builder cry. It was from carrying all the shopping bags, she'd tell him.

Cuddles choked and pat her back to let her know that he couldn't breathe anymore. "G-Giggles! I think I'm g-gonna faint! Please let go of me!"

"Oh r-right, right!" Blushing and grinning widely, she let go of him and patiently, or trying to be patient, waited for him to tell her that it was true. If he did, she'd gladly shower him in kisses, and in the event that it was false, then oh, he better remember how she had reacted when he gave her an imitation Gucci bag for her birthday.

Her reason for wearing heels that day hadn't been just for looks, and he had learned that.

The blonde smiled, afraid that she had cracked his spinal cord, and fixed the front of his zipped up sweater. He knew she would react like this, what girl in town wouldn't, and that was exactly why he had done this for her.

"S-so, you're happy right?"

"Happy?!" The pinkette exclaimed. "Oh my gosh Cuddles this is the greatest thing ever! Petunia and I have been talking about going to see the Tree Friend Killers for ages but they were sold out!" She laughed, it sounding similar to a snort, but since girls don't snort we'll call it another delightful squeal. "I can't wait to tell her that I get to go! Just OH MY GOSH!"

Biting on her thumbnail, smile still in place, she tried stopping her feet from hitting the ground from her excitement. She was now just shaking from it. "Can I, can I maybe see the tickets? Just to see what they look like in real life!"

Cuddles puffed out his chest, proud that he had done something right for a change. Usually his actions were frowned upon from her, but this time he knew that she would show him all the affection he deserved when they were holding hands and singing in the crowd. "No prob!" He confidently put a hand in his sweater pocket, smugly feeling around for the two tickets.

Giggles felt herself reach the peak of her happiness high when he slipped his hand back out, holding - "A piece of . . lint?" Her mood darkening drastically, she smiled with a firmness he had seen only on that day of her birthday.

The air around her buzzed with black electricity and an angered aura as she questioned, "Hey, Cuddles, where are the tickets."

"A-ah! Erm, t-they're here somewhere!" He gasped, dropping the useless ball of lint and searching through his pockets; sweater, pants, and inside of his socks; but coming up empty handed when the last quarter dropped from his right shoe. Face mingling with fear, he weakly pointed behind him, the eye of the devil look she was giving him through her hair making his blood freeze and flow backwards instead.

"Um, I think I might've dropped them back there! . . Giggles? Giggles? W-what are you doing?"

"You remember what happened on my birthday?"

". . Yes . ."

"Go find the tickets, Cuddles, go find the tickets NOW!"

"Giggles!? Giggles put the heel down! No! Stop it! Don't come near me with that! No please not agai-AHHHAHA!"

"I SAID NEVER MESS WITH ME AGAIN!"

The pained cries of the blonde were met with a slight wince from a green eyed male who was around the corner of the nearest store. He never felt bad after he stole from someone, but this was a whole other story.

"Damn," Lifty muttered, "who knew that Giggles could be so violent. All that for a few tickets to" -he held up the tickets and squinted to read the names- "the Tree Friend Killers? Who the fuck are they?" The papers were pulled out of his hand and snapped up by somebody else, he glared freely at the teen who had claimed it as his own, just like with everything else he stole.

"Thanks ass wipe~" Shifty cooed, waving the tickets in his brother's face and ignoring the cries for help that were coming from a still being beaten to a pulp Cuddles. Eyes lighting in recognition of the name of the band, he briefly thought why such a . . peppy . . couple would go to see something like that.

The Tree Friend Killers consisted of Lumpy, Flippy, Splendid, and The Mole, Lammy being their manager. They weren't specifically a rock band, but they chose the style of music for most of the small concerts they held in the town's park or city hall.

Their popularity was growing, more citizens from the main and surrounding towns coming in groups to see them – though the new arrivers, at the end of the performance, would be killed by some expected misfortune most times. These people were pulled out of the town boarders, nobody wanting to explain to them and picking to just let them die with no resurrection. But, at least they had gotten to see the concert before they did get brutally massacred or decapitated.

They were well-known, but apparently his brother hadn't heard one thing about them, which was hard to believe considering how almost every girl was in love with one or more of the members, some stranger one's going as far as crushing on the manager as well. Almost every house they had robbed that had been a female's, they had found signed swag and posters of the group.

Annoying, yes, but it did come in handy when they stole a shirt or photo from one of the band's members and sold it at outrageous prices to the fangirls. Obsessed girls were the easiest people to deceive and rob silly, sometimes they couldn't even tell the difference from when a signature was real or it was his own forgery.

Lifty not knowing who they were might as well have been the same as him wearing a sign that said, 'Kick Me I'm a Fucking Retard', because that's what Shifty was thinking of him right then.

"Who are they?" Lifty queried and looked over his brother's shoulder to read what was printed on the admission pass.

"You'll find out later tonight. Think of how many suckers there are gonna be when we get there." All the eldest twin was thinking about was how many wallets they'd be able to fish out of people's pockets.

They wouldn't be paying attention to their cash, they'd be sucked into the music and giving no heed if the two happened to 'bump' into them. It was an invitation for them to go through the entire crowd and snatch every last bill they had. If any female was wearing jewelry, Lifty might even be able to slip them off without bringing attention to the two. It was like walking into an open bank and being handed the money by the cops themselves!

"Later tonight? Naw, I've got plans." Since when had his little brother started getting plans of his own?

Shifty blinked, confusion crossing his features as he tried to comprehend that his partner in crime was actually doing something without him, even if he did just boss him around everywhere they went. "What? You're screwing with me, you never have any plans, so why the fuck would you have any tonight?"

"Because I can asshole, I have a life too, ya know." Should he have been offended, more than he was every day, anyways, that his brother thought he had nothing better to do than go out mugging with him? It was a pastime, a hobby that followed him everywhere, and by everywhere, he meant _everywhere,_ but he had things to do, too.

"I'm not just a fucking lap dog that follows you at your heels wherever you wanna go."

Feeling sore and tempted to give him no choice but to go, Shifty folded his arms, displeased. "Who the hell am I supposed to go with then?" He was confident that he'd bring in a haul if he went by himself, but then he'd have to go through that awkwardness of being seen as a loaner that had no sort of friend or partner to be with hi-not that he gave a crap about that.

Four hands were simply better than two when it came to pick pocketing.

Lifty shrugged, caring less who would help him steal money just so he could gamble it all away that following night. "Find someone, I'm sure you have friends~" That could've been one of the coldest things the younger male had said for a while; he knew that the bossy twin had even less friends than he had, and that was saying something.

"Funny. You're really a hilarious mother fucker aren't you?"

"I learned from the best~" Chuckling when he saw he had gotten a rise out of him, Lifty gazed across the street. He stopped his laughter when he saw the back of a head full of bright red hair standing in front of the television store.

The redhead was laughing meekly, tucking strands of her behind her ear while she talked to Pop, Cub being the cause of her laughter when he'd reach out and poke her nose.

"If you aren't going to go then let's go home, I don't want to be out here in the sun all damn day."

Forming a plan in his head, the younger thief put a hand on his twin's shoulder, keeping him from going anywhere. "No wait, wait, I think I know who you could ask . ."

Shifty swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me, and oh yeah? Who?" He knew that his brother was going to point to a random girl who would be ugly as fuck, saying that they'd be a perfect match.

Lifty beckoned to the petite female, raising a brow at the other boy's twitching eye, which he had acquired after figuring out who he was referring could be his date. "What about Flaky?"

"W-why would you even say Flaky?!" Shifty sputtered out, his cool slipping out from under him, but he quickly regained it. "Her life is run by fear, what makes you think she'd want to go see a band like the Tree Friend Killers?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, sending the eldest a sly look and pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards her distancing form. "It was just an option for you to pick~ I'd hurry if you wanted to catch up with her though~" Sniggering, he pat the indecisive teen's back, swiped the keys to the van from him, and strutted away, reminding him of the wallets that would never be jacked if he didn't go.

He scowled and looked at the two tickets in his hand, at the furthering girl, then glared at the sidewalk.

It was all for the cash, he'd just have to catch up and talk her into helping him - whether she knew the basics of pick pocketing, he had no idea. She looked to be light in weight, nobody would realize her sneaking by them, that would be helpful when they'd be waiting in the line . .

Dragging his palm over his face and growling, he left the corner and turned into an alleyway between two stores, taking the stealthy approach. If he surprised her, she wouldn't be as capable of rejecting his offer.

His shoes squashed against the moist floor of the alley, the pungent smell wafting up from the garbage almost unnoticed by him, it had become such a familiar smell that it didn't affect him nearly as much as it did before. His strides were long and fast paced; he was hurrying to be positive that he didn't lose her and have to find some other eligible girl.

The alley was like their own pathway, hardly anyone ever walked back there, the aroma unappealing and the company even less wanted. It was the perfect way to go if you were in a rush to be somewhere, like he was now.

Shifty's steps picked up as the pale daylight glow coming from an opening of the alley drew nearer. He turned the edge of the building and stopped just feet from where the darkened shadow that was strewed over the alley touched the brightness of the day, a visible line separating them.

Touching the washed out brick wall, taking his hand back in disgust seconds afterwards to wipe the grim on his fingertips on his pants, he remained in the dark, awaiting the time she would pass by. He got his chance minutes later, the short female preoccupied with going through a purse she never used to notice the bolder, human shape in the shade.

"Oh w-where is it . ." Flaky questioned to herself. She kept rummaging through the bag. "It was here only-"

"Hey Flakes~ what are you looking for?~"

A pair of cool hands gripped her shoulders, a hot breathe blown against her ear as she squeaked, dropping the tan, soft leather bag she had been searching through. "W-Wha-!" She cringed when the thief bent down to grab and hand it back to her.

And no, he did not steal anything. He needed to be on her good side for the moment and taking her money wouldn't help him with that.

Stomach churning, she reached out and took her bag back, clutching it to her chest protectively in case he decided that he did want what was inside. A whispery thank you and she was backing away from him, making it four inches before he had his fingers wrapped around her wrist. "M-mm . . Can you l-let go Shifty . . !"

"Hold up, I have to ask you something," he should've known that she would try to stay away from him, figures. "The thing is, I have two tickets to this band tonight and Lifty bailed on me, so now I have an extra ticket. That ticket could be yours if you want, no catch or price~ I wouldn't even charge you for snacks if you went~ you want to go with me or not?"

Flaky stopped wriggling in his grip and looked into his eyes directly, confused at what he was asking.

Getting no response, he continued to ask, "Yes or no?"

"B-but . . wait . . w-what are we going to do? . ."

This girl was so naive, it was either that or she was too slow to understand what he was asking her.

Sighing, he was exasperated that he would have to say it again, so he put it in simple words. "You. Me. Tonight. Understand? Great. I'll pick you up at eight, make sure to wear something hot." The last word out, he released her wrist and thumped her forehead lightly, muttering a goodbye before turning around and stalking back into the alley.

That . . had been more confusing than the times where he and his brother teased her by playing a guessing game between them.

Had . . had Shifty just made an attempt to ask her out . . ?

xXx

When he had said wear something hot, he hadn't expected her to do it. Flaky was a good girl, always playing it on the extra safe side and keeping to her virtues, the morals of being a kind person, and that was exactly why he hadn't realized that she would dress in something so . . revealing.

His hungry eyes traveled over the expanse of her body that wasn't covered, the bare shoulders that donned nothing but thin spaghetti straps, the gentle arch of her pale back, and oh, her full chest that the skimpy dress - if you could call the tight piece of cloth that - barely hid. Her ringlets of hair fell down her backside in natural curls, most of the flakes washed out, but some visible here and there.

The good girl showed that she could clean up well for a nervous wreck.

He had felt the tremble that shot through her body when he had laid a hand on her shoulder, leading her through the mass warm bodies. More for his amusement than her protection, in this way he could drag his nails sensually over her heated skin without it being harassment.

Shifty still hadn't thought of this as a real date, it was hardly that. What he had told her had been for a matter of business and nothing more, so why did he catch his eyes constantly wondering over to her face, the fright of being in such a rowdy crowd showing through clearly, and peering mischievously down into the space between her breasts. Maybe it was the pulsing bodies around him, their body heat radiating, that boosted his testosterone level.

The redhead was oblivious to any of his actions, her hand grasping on his shirt to keep from melting away into the audience. She was regretting answering the door when she had heard his knock a half hour before, she could've pretended she wasn't home and hidden under her bed.

But, she had been dressed and waiting, Petunia being the girl she had contacted first to ask what was appropriate to wear on a date. Her friend would've assisted her in getting dressed, but she had said she was busy consoling a distressed Giggles. Something about the pink haired girl's boyfriend being beat up by thugs and in the hospital for much needed medical attention.

Petunia hadn't said how trampy she'd feel while walking around in the thigh cropped outfit, though.

She also hadn't warned her about all the men that would be eyeing her like she was some piece of meat, eye candy for single perverts to get a load of.

Ripping his stare away from her chest, Shifty finally witnessed just how many older, lust filled looking men were running their greedy eyes over her voluptuous body. The pang of possesivness arose in his chest at their glazed over looks, his hand tightening on her shoulder as he pulled her in more.

He had to remember his reason for being here, and it wasn't to get jealous for stupid things like other males gazing at her. He was here to rob them senseless, and it could have been fate's way of smiling on them, because he might just use her appearances to his advantage. Using her as a distraction and then fishing their gadgets and cash out of their tightening pockets.

Later. Once the band started playing. That's when he'd make his move.

Shifty pulled her from the mass to a less populated area just fifteen feet of the shack that was vending hotdogs and drinks. This wasn't her crowd, and that got a chuckle out of him, seeing how nervous she was, fidgeting in place and ever trying to cover the milky skin of her exposed thighs.

"Aren't you adorable when you're flustered~"

Flaky squeaked, her shoulders raising to her ears, looking like the shy little girl she was. Unused to hearing compliments from him, anyone really, she flushed deeply, attempting to swallow down her embarrassment, but finding that her throat was parched. She rubbed her neck absent mindedly, giggling to relieve her awkwardness.

"T-thanks, for taking me h-here and—" She tilted her head, ears burning as he removed to hand and replaced it with his own. The soothing circles he rubbed into her skin asking a question in itself.

He tilted his head to the vendor, saying, "Coke?"

She nodded gratefully, feeling the burning fire he had left on the skin and missing its warmness. Casually standing, as casual as an awkward girl who's in a short dress can stand, next to the garbage can, she turned her head the smallest degree to stare at the people smoking from the corner of her eye. The acrid scent of smoke crawled into her already scratchy throat, her cough muffled by her fist.

This place really wasn't meant for her, and she hoped that he would come back soon.

Her worry grew when she saw a stumbling man come towards her in his peripheral vision, an empty beer bottle in his hand and his garbles the sign of his infatuation. She crossed her arms over her chest, a new shudder of fear overcoming her the closer he got. Jumping as he kicked the tin of the trash can, she used the time to glance at him, her bangs covering the left side of her face and hiding her fear stricken expression.

The man's woozy stare was focused on her, his pupils adjusting in what light there was and clouded. His toothy smile should've warned her to run to the line and just wait with the twin who had taken her here, but she was frozen in her shoes as he warbled out, "Hey, you there" –hiccup— "girl, yeah you with the red hair."

Flaky didn't answer, following the rules of not talking to strangers.

"Did you hear me? I called you. Yoo-whoo?~"

She frowned at the ground, not respondent.

"Soo-ooo," He leaned against the trash, successfully knocking it over to the ground and having a difficult time gaining his balance again. When he did, his drunken blush grew, smiling dumbly at her. "Are you here alone?"

He wasn't going to leave her alone until she answered, so summoning up her firmest voice, she said, "N-no." and it still came out as an unconfident stutter. She stepped away from him, peering worriedly at the line and never seeing the fedora that was Shifty's. "I-I'm here with someone."

"Ooooh," He waved his hands up by his face and laughed, taking two unbalanced steps towards her for every single step she took, slowly advancing. "I don't see him anywhere, how do you know that he didn't ditch you?" Shutting his eyes, he continued to drawl out while waving a finger in a circulation motion. "But why would he leave you? A fucking hot piece of ass like yourself shouldn't be left alone, it should be fucked hard, ehe."

The female looked away in disgust and annoyance at being called an 'it' overshadowing her previous fear that still lingered in her, but was pushed off for a second. "O-okay. Can you p-please stop talking to me? He's going to c-come any minute now and . . ! I'm not supposed to be talking to s-strangers."

"So he's the protective type eh?" The drunk took no heed in her warning, stepping closer at his will and laying a hand on her arm, his greasy fingers sliding down her skin and leaving her repulsed. His voice dropped, sultry now as his alcohol reeking breath caused her grimace. Ignoring her attempts to shimmy out of his hold, he brushed her bangs away from her eye. "Or is he just greedy when it comes to you~ doesn't like other men touching you~?"

There was the fear again, fright washing over her face as she tried giving her best menacing glare to drive him away. That plan not working, she gave in to the trembling, yelping in protest when his hand went to the back of her dress, fingers playing with the zipper of it. "W-what are you d-doing! I t-told you I'm w-with someone! Stop it!"

"Why are you screaming? Nobody's going to help you here~"

He was right, the groups consisting of three or four people were looking at the scene before them, but nobody was bothering to stand up and do anything. They gave her looks of pity, but they wouldn't help her, wouldn't try to this man who was beginning to run his grubby hands over her body and tug at her thick hair, her back arching in pain and giving him a trailer of what she had to offer.

Tears pricking in her eyes, Flaky pushed against his chest and cried out for the help that she wouldn't get. This wasn't how she wanted her night to turn out in, being molested by a random drunk bastard who didn't know how to hold his liquor, but the way things were looking now, it seemed like that was going to happen.

"P-please s-stop! L-leave me alone!—"

_Splash._

Flaky felt the cold, sticky liquid wet her hands and forearms, shocked to find the drunk completely soaked in a dark drink, ice cubes falling from the top of his head and onto the ground.

Giving short gasps, he took his hands away from her to wipe the drink from his eyes. "Who the fuck did—" His shoulder grasped by someone, he was spun around and met with outraged emerald orbs and a bitter scowl full of pure hatred. So this was the fucker who had sprayed him with soda? And who the hell did he think he was to be doing that? The Almighty God? Ha, no. From what it looked like, he was a teenager with a green mask and a bad temp—

Shifty's teeth were bared, his body visible shaking from the suppressed anger, as he hissed out to the drunken man, malevolence thick in his words and his glare burning into his skull, _"She said to leave her alone and you didn't. Why, because I was gone. But now I'm back and if I ever see your sorry ass around town again, you better believe that I'll give you a hell of a time." _His threat embedded in the male's mind, he gave him a rough shove that sent him stumbling and tripping over the fallen trash can.

"S-Shifty . . w-where were . . ." Flaky's eyebrows curved upwards, mouth puckering as she gripped the bottom of her dress. Crimson eyes watering, she was silent until he turned back to her.

"God dammit Flaky," he sounded pissed, "I can't leave you alone for fucking five minutes without having to come and rip some dick off of you, can I?" He was about to give her the rules of the new dress code for whenever she went out, but seeing her on the verge of tears stopped him.

Ugh, not even he liked seeing chicks cry.

Glowering, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her face into his chest, rubbing her head and glaring at anyone he made contact with. "Why are you crying, I stopped him before he did anything to you, right? Stop crying Flaky, it's not going to happen again." What would he have to do to signify that she wasn't free when she was out somewhere, tattoo his name all over her body . .

"Y-yeah but," she sniffled, "I thought y-you left without me . . ! I thought you l-left me here by m-myself . ."

He dug his knuckle into her head softly, rolling his eyes at her imagination. Had she really believed that he would come all the way to the concert only to ditch her the first chance he got? Ha, bullshit. "I didn't, you're welcome." Feeling like he should say something less insensitive, he leaned back to see her face, using his scarf to dry up her shining cheeks. "You can't be talking to strangers when you're alone, you don't know what things some sick pervert would do to you if you gave them a chance.

"Besides, for tonight you're all mine," he smirked at the new blush on her teary face he had gained. So maybe this was a date, but he was fine with it now, Lifty's thefts could always replace the wallets he didn't steal today. "Come on, I think they're about to come on. Don't you want to see the Tree Friend Killers~?"

Giggling weakly, she nodded and allowed him to drag her through the bustling audience, the stage lighting up as Lammy came out to introduce the band.

Oh yes, this was a night to remember. Especially when that band would bring the roof down – literally.

**xXx**

**I had fun writing this one for some reason, and I hope you guys liked it.**

**Up Next:**

**SplendidxFlaky /T/ Rose for Starkingdom99**

**LiftyxFlaky/T/ Cold Night for koyamon-lover**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Lollipop for crystalbitch19 XD**

**FliqpyxFlipped!Flaky /(I couldn't make this a K for the life of me XD is a high T or low M fine?)/ Revenge for xXxVampire-HimexXx**

**Til next time! Eat lots of sugar and chase squirrels until you find the one that's Nutty!**


	6. Rose

**I'm back with a request for StarKingdom99!**

**Shipping: SplendidxFlaky**

**Rating: T**

**Word: Rose**

**Warning: A little blood in the beginning.**

**xXx**

Pain.

Crushing pain.

It was all that Flaky was feeling, her lower body on fire and resulting in each of her wails being louder than the last. The redhead's pale face was lit up with dancing orange and yellow lights, her lips parted in pain filled cries. Her crimson eyes watered with agony induced tears, the gas from the exhaust pipes of crashed cars around her burning and blurring her vision.

She had pulled her eyes away from the two way road for an instance to look at Lammy, the French girl laughing, laughing before the fear overcame her and she screamed. She had pointed to the barreling truck in front of them, grabbing the wheel and turning it, unsuccessfully spinning the car ninety degrees. Her side had taken the full blow, the window shattering into pieces and her head lurching forward to bang against the glove compartment.

Scream fading as the glass shards plunged into her throat, hands curling around her tattered neck, Flaky had witnessed her friend dying. It had saved her from the heat and smothering smoke, but it hadn't saved the driver. She had been left alone to scream herself hoarse, clawing desperately at her seatbelt, as the screeching and tearing of metal sounded for miles.

She had covered her head when the other windows cracked and showed her in their shards, screaming pleas for help as her friend's body was smashed in its seat. It had been pushed to lean on her arm and soaking her in the blood of someone she knew—the trickle of the liquid gushing when the useless airbag blew out and slammed against the corpse. The force had lodged the shards deeper, practically draining her body as the wounds widened, the coppery fluid soaking and permanently staining the seats.

The girl had forced down the safety bag and clenched her eyes, one last drawn out scream exiting her, as her own side was rammed into the thick trunk of a tree, engine catching fire and the smoke billowing to the sky.

Strength a silly dream in this burning reality, Flaky had stayed strapped in her seat, a deep cut on her forehead from where she had hit the bent metal of the door, and stared glossy eyed at the rising flames. The smell of gas fumes and ashes combined was enough for her to feel woozy, light headed, and unable to think up a solution for her escape. Or would it be okay to stay seated and let fate take her; the fire would make a nice blanket, it was already warming her toes through her boots, and the thickening cloud of black swirling around her was turning her drowsy. She could just sit there . . and close her eyes . . No one would even be bothered by her screams when she felt her skin burning, they didn't care.

Sniffling, she looked at the bloodied mess that was her friend, then at her hands, shining in the fire light and reflecting it off the streaks of red. Her fingers shook no matter how hard she tried keeping them still. Suffocating on the ash filled air, her fingers hurriedly trailed the seatbelt down and pressed the release button. Difficulty ensured from the start as she struggled to push the mashed button hard enough, giving up and squirming out of its restricting hold.

She had looked to Lammy, knowing that, though she was deceased, it would haunt her to recall that she had left her in the car to burn into charred bits. The scent of skin burning, much like hair burning, was unpleasant and sent her stomach into knots as she grabbed her arms. Breathing through shut teeth, she closed her eyes against the smoke and slid the violet haired girl from her seat. It took the dreamt up strength, but Flaky managed to drag her over the backseat and, kicking the harmful shards that stood upright, pulled her onto the glass littered road.

Soot and caked blood smeared across her face, her will to carry the girl was going away as her arms screamed against the heavy lifting. She had murmured that it would be alright, dropping on the ground and having to scoot away on her backside, legs shaking and threatening to buckle under her at any time. She was soothingly brushing the friend's matted hair away, when she heard the resistant groan, followed by the shriek of metal being ripped away from its melded frame. Flaky had hit the floor as an outburst of heated flames overtook her car and singed the ends of her hair.

The trunk flung open and released another pillar of fire, a flaming tire flying out and bouncing on the road. It was heading in their direction, and she could only pray without hope that it would turn. The flames were quenched with each roll and whatever lingered when it reached her was forgotten, it towering over the two and swaying precariously. Flaky had tried retracting her legs back, but gravity had had its effect on it too soon.

It had fallen, the melting rubber burning through her stockings, the flesh beneath the thin material turning raw.

Flaky's chest heaved as it was taking all her effort to breath in the toxic air, her taste buds tasting the acidic, bitterness of the ashes that traveled and scraped against the inside of her throat. The tire's flames had leapt up and hungrily eaten at her sweater. Its touch was light, leaving a desirable warmth mingled with pain on her abdomen and tracing its gas fingers on her blackened skin. Her hand laid at her hip, inching outwards and curling around the cooling fingers of her friend.

The pain was there, but her voice was far too scratchy and rough to be heard by anyone. The car crash had been on a route outside of the normal streets and highways of the town; she doubted anyone would know she was there. And if they did, they'd expect her to already be dead, not nearing death.

Slipping into the sleep that she wanted, she imagined seeing a person clad in blue behind the wall of fire. Their sky colored eyes were horrified as they panicked, looking for a path through the fire that would reach her. They shouted something incoherent, her ears dull and hearing only the crackling around her. Imagining that they had given up searching for the path and held their arms to their face, running through the wall and enduring the flames that licked at them, she let her eyes drift close.

"Flaky!" the voice was near her, above her, and it sounded so realistic. "Flaky?! Oh my G-d! F-Flaky!?" The imagined man put his hands on her shoulders and shook her, tone pained and angry. "Open your eyes! Open your damn eyes! Flaky stop it!" His arms scooped her up bridal style, her head rolling to the side and face pressed into his chest. She caught the smoky scent that layered the smell of baked bread in the morning.

He looked around, panicky, and whispered, "Shit. Flaky, Flaky, stay with me, you're going to be okay . ." His throat contracted and he had to chomp down on his tongue, holding the vile down as he saw the shredded throat of the girl next to her. The waves of fire had reached her before he had came, and crawled over the expanse of her body-the unconscious female must not have realized it.

"Don't worry . . I'm going to get us out of here . ." He needed to, and fast. Her wheezes reached his ear and he hadn't even known how long she had been breathing in the contaminated air in the first place. She would've been . . . if she hadn't been near the ground, unaware that she was breathing in what little oxygen there was.

"Don't worry, Flaky, don't worry . ."

**xXx**

The squeaking of shoes and wheels against the pine washed floors was the sound that had been sounding in his ears for the last two hours besides a tense silence that lay over the hospital room. Patients that waited with family were settled in chairs along the walls and read through news and gossip magazines. Deprived of interesting topics or juicy pieces of news to converse about, the groups had resigned to thumbing through the biographies and historical novels that the cleverest had thought to bring along, disregarding the powered on TV set placed for all to view in the corner. The only person who wasn't preoccupied by a reading material of some sort or the news was the man in blue sitting on the edge of the chair.

He was well built in stature, blue bangs hanging messily in his clouded eyes, with the look of someone who had a heavy burden on their shoulders. His jumpsuit sweater was unzipped, the red shirt underneath showing, and host to various dark circles, sweat pants folded to end below his knees, and the soles of his tennis shoes were covered in ash. Splendid's bedraggled appearance was the main cause for why the two chairs besides him remained empty, the patients assuming the worst of a man who appeared to be in a fire. He could have cared less about what they thought of him.

They couldn't change his reason for being at the hospital with their thoughts. He wasn't enjoying the curious stares they had, but he wasn't going to send a snappish comment that he would have created on the spot or a hateful glare. He had business to attend to and he wasn't allowing himself to be riled up by unintended things, like their eyes that swept from his ash coated face to his bandaged hands.

His own stare was cast to the square tiles in the floor, following their never-ending lines down the hall that she was wheeled down in. He grew hope as a door opened, only to give way to an older man in a wheelchair and hospital gown pushed by a hefty, male nurse. Splendid's eyes dropped once more, this time to land on the empty chair to his right.

It wasn't exactly empty, he would say, it did occupy one thing; a fully bloomed rose, its thorns bent off by his already scorched hands so its stem was smooth. The silky petals were a crimson that reminded him of the eyes of another, the beauty did not, however, compare to hers. Her eyes were bright and filled with admiration for everything that moved. They loved to see others happy, they sparkled in even the darkest of lights, and they were the eyes that he had looked in when he had asked for her hand in marriage.

He wouldn't forget the overwhelming emotions and the tears that popped from them as she sobbed out a yes. They had been so beautiful, and he had seen them only that same morning, cheerful as she told him that she was going out with a friend. Neither of them had expected any wrong event to happen, they never thought that she would be in a horrible car crash when he wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss on her head. Nor had she imagined that her giggles would turn into cries as she grabbed his chin in her hand, daintily standing taller and molding their lips together before she left.

If he had known . . he would have told her to go another day . . would have insisted on taking a different route . . would have stopped that truck if he could have . . . But he hadn't. That was the cruel reality of it, he hadn't done anything but say goodbye to her and he couldn't change that. He told her to be careful everyday, and this time he just told her to have a nice day, it was his fault that she was in that damned hospital room, getting fussed over by doctors who dared touch what was only his, instead of having a fun time with her friend.

No, he wasn't going to cry in public where everyone would see and judge him for something they knew nothing about. He wasn't going to let the aching in his heart spread further than his chest. He wasn't allowing the 'what if's enter his mind and fill him with depression, he would stay strong, he had to.

For her.

A doctor in a pressed coat came out of a door, flipping and scanning papers on a clipboard. He was blonde and young looking, but his eyes, the color of a deep pond, held wisdom that surpassed Splendid, along with a graveness as he neared the news reporter. He offered his hand, apologizing and putting it in his pocket when he noticed the bandages. "Sorry about that, Mr. Splendid?"

"It's fine," Splendid replied, standing and feeling no better when he saw that he was taller than the medical worker. "You can just call me Splendid . . . So, how's Flaky doing?"

"Well," doctors weren't inclined to lie. "She's doing okay, at best." so he didn't. His clipboard covered his nametag so Splendid didn't get a chance to catch his name before he continued. "We're assuming that she was breathing in that smoke for, say, ten to fifteen minutes. Twenty at most. It's a wonder she didn't faint sooner, by what you tell us she slipped into unconsciousness when you arrived?"

"That's right . . She was half awake, but she wouldn't answer to anything I said."

"Very well, but you must know that in taking such high amounts of harmful gases that is littered with debris, the ashes in this case, would have an effect on her lungs and the way they function." He turned the clipboard to the reporter and pointed at the two graphs on the front page. Pointing at a green graph, he said, "This is the average person's breathing rate, an estimated forty to fifty breaths per minute."

Splendid dreaded to hear the rest, looking at the graph, the numbers distinctly lower than the other. "And this one . . ?"

"That is Flaky's breathing rate, an estimated ten to fifteen breaths per minute. Now it wouldn't have been bad if she was breathing in slowly, but from what our nurses have recorded, her breaths are jumpy, uneven, struggled."

"S-so she's gonna have to stay overnight or . ."

The doctor motioned him to follow, walking back down the hallway. Splendid grabbed the rose, a petal falling off, and followed after him, face stony. "Mr. Splendid, you don't seem to understand this. Her burns are third degree and cover over sixty-eight percent of her body. Even if she made it, she'd have to go through some rehabilitation to see if her nerves are still intact . . ."

He went on, but Splendid had stopped trying to understand what he was saying. His ears were pounding and hand tightening around the stem of the flower, another petal dropping behind them. He hadn't heard the doctor correctly, that was it, he had thought he said if instead of when, he must've had something blocking his ear canal. That was exactly why. Though, the coldness that grew in his stomach was saying otherwise. It was as though ice had been poured down his shirt or a storm he had been caught in without an umbrella.

"She's in a critical state," Splendid zoned back in. "We have her wrapped in gauze, but we're not sure if the pain medications are helping her, she hasn't been respondent to any of our treatments."

"Can I see her," Splendid asked suddenly.

The doctor stopped his feet and respectively said, "Mr. Splendid, this is a lot to comprehend, perhaps you should take a seat. You could sit here in the hall or outside her door, but—"

"Can I see her or not?" he questioned more roughly. "Just give me a yes or a no."

"Yes," the blonde hesitated, "you can see her . . . but I really do suggest you processing this before you go—"

"Which room is she in?"

He wasn't going to get off it, he should might as well tell him. "You are doing this at your own request, and I would like to wish you the best of luck on her recovery. Staff members and I will be a button's click away if you need us. She's in the room down this hall, take a left at the next corner, and the fourth door or the right will be hers."

Splendid thanked him, starting off in a jog and following the young doctor's instructions for getting to her room. For every step he took, his jog turning into a run when he turned the corner and saw no one, the rose's petals detached from it and drifted to land on the tiles. He counted the numbers in his mind, feeling the clock tick away the time as he thought, _Okay fourth door, that'd be 74 . . . 75 . . . 76 . . . 77!_ Halting, he grabbed the knob, but he couldn't bring himself to open the door.

The doctor had said that she wasn't respondent . . which meant she wasn't awake . . If he wasn't able to face seeing her body, the body his hands had trailed over lovingly so many times at night, wrapped up and her hurting . .

The blue eyes rested on the silver band on his fourth finger and he, again, thought of seeing her there in pain. Right now, she was alone, and he had promised her that he would always be there, and be her hero. Splendid took a bracing breath, and opened the door.

His arm fell off the handle and limply hung by his side, eyebrows curving upwards as he stepped quietly into the room, the beeping of the heart monitor getting louder as he brushed his hand against the end of her covers. True to the doctor's word, the redhead was wrapped tightly in gauze, the bandages covering her arm where she had been closest to Lammy's burning corpse and stretched across her chest that wasn't hidden by the blanket.

". . Flaky . ." As he sat down in the seat next to her, rubbing his eyes, he put the rose on the bed edge. He laid a shaking hand by hers, saddened eyes shutting when he intertwined their fingers. "I should've known this would happen . . I'm so sorry Flaky . . I'm so sorry . . Can you wake up and say you forgive me . ."

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"If I had only known that-" leaning his elbow and forearm on the cushion, he stared at the tube placed in her nose. "I would've . . told you I love you times ten . . Wake up, Flaky, you have so much to live for . . for us . . ." He hesitated, leaning over her and pressing his lips to the same place he had in the morning. Eyes shutting, he held himself there, nose smelling the acrid scent of smoke clinging to her hair and covering the strawberry shampoo she used, before sitting back down, lips tight.

"I brought you a rose . . If you woke up you would see how pretty it is . . and you'd hear me tell you how many ways your more lovely than it is . ."

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"You don't want to see it? It's your favorite flower, I remember you telling me that on our first date, and how I bought a bushel for you the next time . . I wanted to see the cute smile you had when I showed them to you . . If you just opened your eyes then . . I know you'll be better by tomorrow . . but by then it'll be wilted . ."

Splendid, lips puckering, blinked three times to clear his vision. He held a fist to his mouth and looked towards an empty corner of the room to collect his thoughts.

"I guess that's all I have to say right now, besides get better, which I know you will . . I hope your dreaming of something happy . . Maybe you're even thinking of our wedding day . ." Forcing a smile, he slowly laid his head on her chest and relished in her, faint, heartbeat. He couldn't say anymore, a soft tear rolling down and cleaning a line of soot from his cheek, staining the baby blue sheets with a dark gray circle.

He opened his eyes as a tender hand weakly ran through his hair, a coarse voice whispering, "M-my hero . . ."

_Beeeeep . . ._

Splendid couldn't work up the courage to look at the heart monitor and see the line that told his fiancé was, "G-gone . ." He forced another close lipped smile, eyes dead and no emotion stirring in them as he softly kissed the warmth fading lips of the redheaded girl.

As the line had gone on, the last petal of the rose had fallen off and left it bare, naked, and no longer beautiful.

**xXx**

**This was originally going to be a funny one shot, what happened!? All of this from the word rose ._. So this was sorta AU, as in, Splendid doesn't have powers and there is no curse.**

**Up Next: **

**LiftyxFlaky /T/ Cold Night for koyamon-lover**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949 (for this one can you clarify what you mean by platonic? I looked up the word, means a friendship with no romantically feelings and . . ?!)**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Lollipop for crystalboob19**

**FliqpyxFlipped!Flaky /M (for gore)/ Revenge for xXxVampire-HimexXx**

**Tiger GeneralxFlaky /T/ Camping for boony832**

**SneakyxFlaky /T/ Traitor for InazumaGhostKing 0.0**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Jealousy for crystallosercacaface19 *troll face***

**. . . *stabs Crystal and slaps her corpse* **


	7. Teacher (Rated M)

**This is a ShiftyxFlaky idea I've had that I just needed to write. XD **

**Warning: THIS IS M RATED. LEMON SO . . YEAH GO BACK.**

**xXx**

The classroom's clock was counting down the minutes until it would be time to dismiss the anxious students. Pens and pencils scratched furiously against paper, one student tearing through his and exhaustively pulling his hair, as the sound of heels clicking against the floor sounded.

Sitting in his seat near the back of the class, a green haired male flipped over his test and toyed with his eraser top. He had been far from being done, barely making it past question three, and that was what he was striving for.

Emerald eyes followed the usual flowing hair of the young teacher, a female of only twenty years. She was a transfer from the more ghetto school located on the other side of the town, finding a job at Happy Tree High only months back. And for those three months this particular student had had his eyes on her. It wasn't every day that a woman with a stutter and cute awkwardness stepped into the class.

His tongue peeked out hungrily as he re-imagined the look of embarrassment on her red face as she taught about the human body. Her stutter had become noticeable, the flustered woman explaining the male and female reproduction system in dulled down detail. The other students simply laughed and cracked jokes after class when she had rushed out, finding it hilarious how she couldn't handle any sexual lesson.

But he had thought it was arousing, just seeing the shy redhead in front of the class and trying to explain what a penis was without uttering the actual word. She was so innocent for an adult, and with his eighteenth birthday just passed two weeks ago he couldn't have asked for a better gift.

_Brriinngg!_

At the sound of the bell, the screeching of chairs being dragged filled the air and murmurs of excitement. The teenagers filed out of the room in a flurry, handing their papers to the smiling teacher and rushing to leave the school grounds. Normally, he would have left with his brother and they'd go on the bus together, but he had already told Lifty that he had detention today.

The room emptied quickly leaving only the teacher who sat at her desk grading papers and the student casually leaning back in his chair. It was passing 3:15 before she looked up, surprised that he had stayed behind this time—normally the slacking boy would ditch detention and she would have to order him another. But there he was, staring at her intensely and a teasing spark in his eyes.

She turned her stare down and cleared her throat, saying, "Mr. Shifty, w-would you please come to the seat in front of me."

Shifty smirked snidely and got up, pushing his chair in roughly and walking to the seat she pointed to. "Yes, Ms. Flaky."

The teacher shuffled in her chair as she felt his unrelenting stare still penetrating her. Shifty was one of her more intense students, the kind that she would happily avoid and help as little as was called for. Red pen grading papers nervously, she licked her dry lips and started, "Do you know w-why I gave you detention? Again?"

"Nope," said an uncaring Shifty, again leaning back in the chair, "not a clue."

"Well besides for your failed attempts at making it t-to your other detention sessions . . turning in homework late . . sticking gum in Giggles' hair . . and skipping classes," Flaky racked her head for any other trouble he caused, "you got a-an F on your last test."

"So what? Half the class failed that test, maybe you were the one who didn't teach it right. Why are you blaming me for that."

"Actually, Mr. Shifty, only y-you failed," she corrected, biting her pen cap when he glared at her. "A-and you already had an F in this class so . . . Shifty, you're going to have to redo the twelfth grade if you can't get at least a D-."

Shifty grew stiff at the word 'redo'. He would gladly do over the entire grade if he had the pushover redhead as a teacher, but that wasn't the case. For every student who failed a grade and had to repeat it, they must take a remedial class for the next year. Now that wouldn't be all that bad, if it wasn't for the crazy principal who taught it. He had heard that the psycho had thrown a boy out the window for chewing gum, shattered a girl's phone in his bare hands after catching her texting, and even threatened a ditcher with his bowie knife.

The last part was just a rumor, though, he didn't want to take any chances with that.

"You don't say," he said thickly. Playing with his raccoon chain, he was inclined to ask, "What can I do to fix that?"

"I don't think you understand," she put her graded stack aside and folded her hands on the table. "The semester's a-almost over, and I don't have any extra work for you to catch up."

"Then why didn't you tell me this before?" Shifty growled, upset that he had been notified of his failing grade on such short notice. "It's teachers like you that are the reason why kids are fail—"

"I-I would've warned you sooner, but you never come to class," her tone was almost icy as she defended herself. "I left you messages on your home phone—"

"Well who the fuck checks their home phone?"

"—and I informed your brother about your F. I gave him l-letters upon letters to give to you, and he promised he would. Did he ever bring them home? . . B-because he said he . . would."

Shifty slumped in the seat and grumbled, "That little bastard, he didn't give me shit." Lifty had known about him failing the math class for some time now, and he hadn't thought it important to warn his brother about it? He had lied about the letters he had brought home then, saying they were love notes from creepy stalker girls and throwing them away.

Fucking dick, it's as if he wanted his brother to fall behind and redo an entire grade.

Flaky withheld her flinch at the harsh words and pat the stack absentmindedly. "W-well, I'm sorry that he didn't tell you about that . . . but that doesn't excuse your grade, Shifty."

"What do you want me to do about it now, can't do nothin' anymore." There was no extra credit he could do, this test was the last before progress reports came put, and he was too lazy to invest time into finishing what assignments they had left. "Fucking fantastic, this is ending as a shitty year."

"I would ask you to refrain from using c-curse words in my classroom, Mr. Shifty."

"Whatever," he brushed her off, "is there anything I can do to get an A? Or at least a passing grade? I really, _really_ am concerned about this." Yeah, okay, that was a total lie. But if he said he didn't give a crap about his grades and simply wanted to avoid the psychotic principal she wouldn't think twice about his seriousness on the subject.

"As I said before . . it's the e-end of the semester. If you had realized this halfway through you would've had a chance to finish bigger projects, but y-you can't do that now. I'm sorry Shifty, you can't do anything anymore."

Shifty threw his hand up in annoyance, staring out the class window with a fixed jaw. "Wow, that's bullshit right there. So fucking stupid." It was then that he noticed the two squirrels running along a branch, one chasing the other. His eyebrow arched as he saw the larger animal reach the first, nose twitching in distaste at the sudden game of wrestling.

Then it snapped in his head, like a puzzle piece that had been put in the correct place. That's what he needed to do, a grin spreading across his face, and he was already thinking of how it would play out.

"Ms. Flaky, are you sure that there really is nothing I can do to get that A~?" Shifty asked, leaning his elbows on the table and staring at her through half lidded eyes. He slid tongue across his lips, sending her a sly grin, and gave himself a point for her flushing face. "If there's anything I can do . . Just tell me~"

"U-um, no, there's nothing you can do," mumbled the teacher, growing uneasy under his hungry stare. She received that stare once before from a different student when she had lollipops to hand out; it had ended with her on the ground and her candies nowhere to be found. "Please just sit quietly until detention is over."

The twin kept his smile fixated, hands under his chin, and his eyes on her anxious face. Standing, he went to the door and said, "Are you truly confident of that Ms. Flaky? There's absolutely no way I can get my A from an F?" He looked through the window for any lagging students or working teachers, finding the hallway delightfully empty.

"S-Shifty, please go sit down. This is detention, you aren't allowed to talk in here, so please stop speaking. And I h-have told you, there's nothing I can give you that can raise your grade that—"

A low clicking coming from the door handle.

Heart rate increasing at the possibility of being locked in, she had to ask before she grabbed her cellphone, "Shifty, is there s-something wrong?" Could it be a code red? But after school? "W-why did you lock the door . . ."

The thief came back and leaned on her desk, grabbing a stray lock of red hair and tucking it snugly behind her ear. "Ms. Flaky, I'm willing to make a proposition with you~ I know just how to get that A so you won't have to see me next year, wanna hear it?"

She had students who were kind and brought her gifts, she had students who were adoring and gave her hugs, and she even had students who had temporarily had crushes on her—but never had a student given such an affectionate touch to her. He hadn't meant it though, Flaky believed, he had only wanted to tuck the stray piece away.

"A proposition? I c-can't be making deals with students when the expectations are so great . . but i-it wouldn't hurt to hear it." Flaky jerked back as he abruptly bent down, grabbing her curly hair in one hand and grinning seductively. She grew cherry red at the closeness of her student, gulping as their noses pressed together and fearing the punishment she'd receive if another faculty member caught them.

"You're saying that I've been a bad little boy~" Shifty whispered huskily, chuckling at her low whimper. "Well, _teacher,_ why don't you punish me? Punish me nice and long, and don't be afraid to hold back~"

"Shifty!" She reared back, finding how strong his grip was on her hair. "W-what is your implication here!?"

"If you want me to dumb it down," his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, tongue swiping over it and his sharpened teeth biting it lightly. "I'm saying that if I give you a good fucking, you'll raise my grade. Get it now Teach?"

"S-Shifty! You can't be doing this, I'm your teacher! N-now, let go of me and I won't say a word about this." Seeing his amusement and lack of his fingers unraveling from her locks, she breathed out desperately, "Shifty, please, I-I really need this job . . ! If Mr. Flippy finds out about this—"

"And I need that A," he said bluntly. "I'm not leaving here without it, and I'm not a minor anymore so you won't get arrested. Fired maybe but, eh, not my problem."

Was he being serious? Flaky's mouth hung open as she soaked in his words; he didn't care if she got caught and got fired, he was concerned about his needs alone.

Knowing she wouldn't be responsive if he didn't promise her her job still, he rolled his eyes. "I'll ensure it that your job stays, don't worry your head about it. I've got this under control, Ms. Flaky~"

She shuddered at the affection in his tone and began thinking on his words. He had this under control? Didn't that mean he had thought of this all before? The thought was enough to send heat flooding back into her face.

"I can't, this is w-wrong—"

"So was your affair with the principal, but did I say anything to the superintendent? Or did I keep it a secret to myself? If this is so wrong, then go ahead and tell, I have my own secrete to share as well~"

"Y-You're going to use blackmail against me . . ?!" she gasped out. It was obvious that her student was tricky and sneaky, she had seen him selling cigarettes to other kids outside without being caught before, but she hadn't expected he'd go to this far of measures. "But y-you—no the principal and I d-didn't do—"

Fisting her knee length skirt and stopping her shaking shoulders, she questioned, "Why don't you just blackmail me into giving you a better grade t-then."

"Because what would be the fun in that~? I'd get a better grade, but I wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing I earned it~ you see why that isn't fair, right?"

"I . . . yes . . but—"

"Mm mm, no buts Ms. Flaky~ it's either you agree to me and we both leave happy, or you don't, I get held back, and you get prison time; your choice."

The frazzled teacher sunk in dread knowing that there was no other option. She couldn't get fired, or become an inmate. The last part sounded extremely brutal and best to avoid.

"Okay then," said Flaky meekly, "I a-agree, but you can't be telling your friends about this. Because if word gets out . ."

"I promise I won't even tell my little brother," Shifty smiled at how easy it had been to persuade her. He thought she'd ask for real proof of him knowing about her affair, which he had none of and only happened to see while tagging the lunch tables after school. "You're safe~ now let's get this lesson started, shall we?"

The woman squeaked as he stepped behind her desk, already having his hands on her slim waist and lifting her onto the desk top. In a quick motion, Shifty had swiped off the contents atop it and sent pencils, pens, and her papers onto the ground.

Flaky winced after hearing her favorite teacher mug shatter, apologizing to Lammy the student who had presented it to her. "Shifty be careful, s-someone may hear us!"

"Relax Teach, I'll clean it all up later. Just try to focus on me, you're gonna find it hard not to after this~"

"W-what? Why—" A short scream emitted from the twenty year old that followed the ripping of clothing. She clenched her thighs together and fearfully tried pulling her skirt lower. Face color matching her hair, she stared at the student who was holding up her torn underwear in his hand. "W-w-what!"

"You would've needed to get rid of that anyways~ I just helped you, you're welcome." Smirking, he disappeared from before her and got down on his knees instead.

Curiosity trickled into her expression as she questioned his reason for this. "Shifty, what are you—" Another yelp escaped her at the sudden breeze to her lower regions and the warm palms keeping her open. His strong hands had worked their way in between her clenched thighs and pried them apart despite her resistance, giving him a clear view of what she had to offer.

She whined as he gripped her bottom, raising her above the desk to ride her stiff skirt up. The table top was cold against her exposed skin and distracted her from noticing the twin going back to his former position. "I-I don't understand why—A-ah!" The female's back arched coupled with the gaspy moan. She had felt his lips press to her flushed skin, moving long until his parting mouth was grazing her pearl.

A zap of lust at hearing the moan zapped through the twin as he continued dragging his tongue over the fleshy folds of her womanhood. His movements were languid and drawn out, Flaky whimpering at the hot breath hitting her most sensitive spot.

She gripped the hair that was tickling her skin and forced his head closer, almost instantly forgetting who was causing her eccentric pleasure. "Shifty, if y-you're going to be doing this, I'm telling you to go faster." Her dominant voice slipped into a whispered plea, "If you c-can, please."

"You're in charge, Ms. Flaky~"

"T-thank you Shi—" Her fingers curled tighter in his dark hair, breath hitching as the wet organ intruded her body. His tongue pulled out again, running over her shining clit, before delving back in. The alluring scent of the juices emitting from her spun around him and danced in his at work mouth.

Sweet like a special candy, he thought, prodding at her inner walls until he gained a shocked mewl. That was it. His nose brushed against the bundle of nerves as he eagerly poked at the spot again. Shifty planted a firm hand on the desk counter and her leg, finding it hard to maneuver inside the heated entrance due to her shaking.

"R-right there," Flaky groaned out, glazed eyes on the whiteboard as she bucked her hips onto his tongue. She wanted so badly to get the high she had felt a few times before, and by his quickening pace he knew that too. "M-mm, just k-keep doing that S-Shifty . . !"

He already wanted to see her sprawled out body beneath his, sweat glistening on her bare chest and nude body, and hear her panted moans saying his name. But more than that, he wanted her to hit her first orgasm and know that the teacher had caved in under him. He was craving the fucking of the school year right then, the woman's pants and frantic tugging at his hair driving him every further.

It wasn't long before his anything but tentative licks got the best of her, Flaky buzzing in ecstasy and her cry echoing in the empty room. Her unique flavor was still on his taste buds as he wiped himself off using his scarf.

Shifty leaned back on his knees and stared at the pleasing sight above him. The heaving chest of his teacher, her crimson eyes clouded, and the blush that filled her cheeks. "How was that Ms. Flaky~?"

"I-it was worth an A," murmured Flaky. "I'll be changing your grade tonight." Thinking their session was over she began stepping down onto her shaking legs, but was stopped when he held her in place.

"I think I can do a little bit more to get that A~ don't you think? That was awfully fast and only worth half credit, let me show you how I can get a real grade." He was going to go gently on this, but the raging boner in his pants was saying to do otherwise.

Lustfully, almost roughly, he slammed her back down on the desk and began tugging on his pants zipper. Her pained cry was ignored and forgotten as he slid his hands to grip the underside of her thighs. Raising her lower body, he draped her shapely legs around his neck and pressed his freed member to her hole.

"S-Shifty I don't think that this part is a g-good idea, I'm supposed to have a meeti—"

"And we'll be done before that. Ms. Flaky, you have to trust that I know how much time I have. "

"Yes but t-they're supposed to be coming in—" Without waiting warning to her, the teenager rammed himself into her glistening hole and listened to her shocked gasp. Teeth latching down on her lower lip and on the verge of breaking the skin, she looked at the ceiling lights with pained eyes. The sudden intrusion left no time for her to adjust to his large size before he began pumping into her.

The smaller woman squirmed under his heavy body, her flexibility coming in handy as it was that her legs were nearly pressing to her clothed abdomen. Her first time had been sensual and endearing, the principal taking her lovingly, but this student was getting a ride out of their time together.

And why shouldn't he be? Since her first day working as his teacher, he'd been fantasizing about having her in every position. He could almost feel her sliding up and down his pole after every test, hungrily eyeing her whenever she bent down to assist a lost student. If she hadn't come, maybe he would have been passing the class. But she proved to be too much of a distraction, stealing his attention away from the numbers on the board and directed to her bouncing at every word chest. The teacher was naughty in her own secret way, and he hadn't been able to wait to bury his cock deep inside her.

Her sweaty hands sliding on the desk surface and the metal legs creaking as he thrust into her, Flaky unknowingly began pushing herself onto his member when it retreated. The feeling of being full was one she didn't want to forget, never mind the awkwardness she'd feel towards the teen during next day's class.

Her lubricated walls clenched tightly around his ramming cock, Shifty neared his pleasure high. The delicious mewls and cries that left her adding on to his levels that counted to his climax. Just one more thrust and—

The classroom door opened with another click, the grounds keeper, Splendid, having used his keys to open it.

"Thank you Mr. Splendid," the principal, Flippy, pat the blue haired worker on his shoulder. "I was wondering why it wouldn't open, Flaky's hosting the meeting to—. . day."

The squeaking of the teacher's desk stopped, the two panting forms turning their heads and seeing Flippy's repulsed expression. Flaky stared, horrified, at her boss and the actuality that they had gotten caught; Shifty appeared annoyed that they had been interrupted. He was this close from cumming, and the stupid principal had walked in.

Of course.

"W-what's going on here?" Flippy asked in disbelief. "Ms. Flaky? Shifty? What are you—"

"I'm doing a test retake," Shifty hissed. He was going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble no matter what, might as well finish what he had started. "Please get out, don't you know it's rude to interrupt students who are testing."

The grounds keeper and principal shared a look that asked what they had just walked in on. Hesitating, they backed out of the room, Splendid closing and locking the door again, and walked away down the hall.

"I-I'm going to lose my teaching credentials," Flaky whispered. "I'm going to lose my j-job."

"Yup, probably . . . But I still have to get that A, Teach, let's get back to the 'test'~"

**xXx**

**Sigh, this sounded better in my head. But with my inability to write lemons, well . . -.-' I really do love this couple—mostly for the sexual highlights xD**

**Up Next:**

**LiftyxFlaky /T/ for koyamon-lover**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Lollipop for my stalker, Crystal.**

**FliqpyxFlipped!Flaky /M (for gore)/ Revenge for xXxVampire-HimexXx**

**Tiger GeneralxFlaky /T/ Camping for boony832**

**SneakyxFlaky /T/ Traitor for InazumaGhostKing (can I **_**please**_** make this a story instead of request? *puppy dog eyes*)**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Jealousy for Crystal**

**. . . This was supposed to be the chapter where I said I'm not taking smut xD What the heck, but only this request!**

**FiqpyxFlaky /M (for smut)/ Clarity for Guest**

**AntsxFlaky /T/ Creepy for beejebuz**

**OCxFlaky /T/ Fear for Tommy-The-Panda (this is the only OC request I'm taking since I didn't specify at first that I dislike using them)**

**PopxFlaky /T/ Jailbait for Crystal**

**Damn, that list is long for me XD So . . 'parently Crystal and I got married (*shoots Boony*), and I'm tempted to ask who wants to go to our wedding? DX**


	8. Cold Night

**Omg the update for this took too long xD This chap is for koyamon-lover!**

**Shipping: LiftyxFlaky**

**Rating: T**

**Word(s): Cold Night**

**Warning: This is AU and contains Flaky as OOC, as in, she isn't very shy ;P**

**xXx**

"And stay out!" A harsh voice rang through the empty street, followed with the sounds of trash cans being toppled over, their contents spilled over the damp sidewalk. Out of the discarded trash a boy of eighteen or nineteen years sat straight, a fierce glint of hatred brightening his already glowing eyes. Hanging out the door of the shabby apartment was one similar to him, the only difference being a fedora topped on his head, a look of bubbling anger, and the biting curses leaving his lips. "You can go sleep with the fucking dogs! I told you not to touch my stuff! You're not getting back in here!"

"Like I need you!" the thrown out male said as he stood and threw aside a banana peel that'd been on his shoulder. "Blah! Such a drama queen, it was just a stupid picture! Fine, you can be alone then, but don't tell me later on that you need help getting into some person's house because I won't listen!" He would have continued his shouting, waking up the neighbors and likely getting arrested for causing a public disturbance, if his twin hadn't slammed the door closed.

Lifty and Shifty. Known as the conmen of New York City and as slick as hair gel. The two were rock hard, cold, soulless young men who had made a living out of duping any person who was foolish enough to strike a deal with them. Cheating, deceiving, tearing down reputations from the shadows, that was how they had earned the title of being some of the most notorious people who walked the streets. From the day they'd held up a bank for the first time, to the crooked schemes they used to knock people off their high clouds to the hard ground presently, they'd sent fear into whoever they came into contact with.

It was passed around from ear to ear that if you met them late at night, strolled by them on a sidewalk, or were one of the unfortunate folk who turned the wrong corner and got trapped in a dead end, they'd find a way to lure you into making a gamble. A deal. A bet. One that you had no chance of winning. They knew their advantages and skills, using them in their favor to bring into their possession whatever called. Even if the article was worthless, of no monetary value in the slightest, they would strip it of you in a heartbeat. Call them kleptomaniacs, greedy, rats—they'd been labeled as all of those—but it was the way life had always been.

Born and raised on the streets they hadn't had a chance to grow in a child friendly environment, have real friends who wouldn't eventually turn on and stab them in the back, or even go to a school that wasn't, well, being inspected for evidence of murder cases. The neighbors weren't exactly the most generous people you could meet, most being ex-convicts, some being on the run at times, or dimwitted adults who seemed like they hadn't known what a child was. They certainly didn't know how to treat and play role model for one.

Constantly surrounded by these bad influences of drugs, alcohol, and deceitful people, they hadn't any other being to take inspiration from. Had their mother been at home, acting like the cheery blonde haired, blue eyed women they'd seen in magazines, greeting their children every day with adoration and love, maybe they would have turned out right. Maybe they wouldn't have grown twisted and bitter when they found that the dreams of having a future that the other privileged children would have was just a joke. And maybe they would have felt hurt, betrayed, unloved when they ran from their home and realized their mother didn't give a damn where they'd gone off to.

They hadn't though. Not one part of them had cried out and longed to go back to the hovel they called home.

It was that night when they'd snuck out the back door with only the clothes on their backs and the forty dollars they'd taken from the savings jar on top of the fridge that reality had came crushing down on them.

Their mom had come in a drunken state, in no shape to ask them what they'd eaten, and if they did, where'd they get the money to buy it. She had waddled in, steps unbalanced and woozy, and kicked off her heels. Her breath smelt strongly of a concoction of vodka and a pineapple drink. How did she get home without a cop pulling her over? Eyes bloodshot and words garbled, she hadn't been able to tell them apart; not that she seemed to care which was which. She told Shifty, who was really Lifty, to stop talking so loud when he simply asked if she was okay.

They hadn't known what brought it on, but later that night she had gone into a fit of rage. Their mom was always crazy when she drank too much. They thought it was something that happened to all grownups and was triggered by what was put in their drinks. But that night she had seemed serious when she screamed out that it was their fault their father had left her. He'd left when she had started gaining weight, she'd been right in the head back then, and had found out that she was carrying not one, but two children. The man had been cowardice and hadn't believed he could handle the responsibility of feeding two more mouths, along with having a needy wife. He was in the prime of his life, and to throw that away to take a chance with his high school sweetheart was too much of a risk.

So he left. He ran away from his problems. Like a coward.

Lifty and Shifty never said anything to the concerned teachers about the bruises they had, symbols of their life at home. They muscled through the jeering kids who would call their mother nothing but a drunken prostitute. A woman who could do nothing and the best she had to offer was her body for one night, a dirty lowlife, a person lower than the worms in the dirt or the dogs who ate garbage. Those were the times they thought she just withheld her love for them, afraid to bring out her innermost feelings and say how proud she was of them, and they thought of the marks as affectionate gifts she'd given them.

On that fateful night, in the lighting of the knocked over lamp and TV that was airing Full House, she had looked far from affectionate. Her fists were waving, the crazy look and her streaming tears the cause of sorrow, remorse, hatred at the twins, and too much beer. A slam to the wall hadn't been enough. She wanted to see the two children who ruined her life be taken out of it. Maybe then her lover would come back and they'd live the fantasy they'd always talked about. If the two mistakes were effaced, things would go back to what they were years ago, she wouldn't have any of the regrets she had then.

The neighbors didn't interfere with their family matters, if they had it would have been a change for the better or worse. They could have been taken away from the custody of the woman and be put in a foster home. It'd still be a challenging life, but at least they'd get a chance to find someone who cared for them. If only, if only, if only they hadn't come into the world, she wouldn't be so angry.

Only after she had collapsed on the couch, the screaming gone and only silent sniffles from the youngest twin heard, did Shifty take authority. They needed to get out. Find their own way in life, he'd seen the movie where the kid runs away and finds a rich family looking for a child to adopt. That could be them if they got lucky. They'd find a wealthy old couple who had no family lines and were just looking for heirs to their million dollar estate, they'd be loved for years, and when it came time to be on their own, they'd know exactly what direction their lives were heading in.

That was about the time where reality, the little bitch, came into play.

To survive the big city they needed to be tough as nails, unforgiving, the antagonists to everyone's fairytale. Squishy and unprotected from the chaotic events of the world, they would have been eaten alive, killed on their first night. They needed to break the memories that gave them feelings, feelings are where weakness is found after all. One by one they broke, snapped, destroyed any happy memory they'd ever had—which wasn't much. And after all of it, years passed from that night, the conmen were created.

Mean, crude, quick in wit and tongue, they were the description of broken itself.

Just like every night the two fought—far from brotherly bickering—and this one was no exception. Last night it was over who had eaten the last granola bar, and last week it was the blame game, both upset that their latest heist had failed and almost gotten them arrested. They had slipped away seconds before the police had burst through the door, eager to find the criminals they'd been hunting down for nearly four years, and used the darkness of the night as a cloak to shield them. Always capable of dodging the outstretched fingers of the law, the close discovery had made an uproar, mostly for the eldest brother.

This dispute had dealt with Lifty rummaging through his brother's secrete trunk. Within it was memorabilia, either photographs from where they'd traveled in their lives, though it wasn't far, or cherished treasures the twin had obtained through robberies. Burglaries from the higher class were risky, but they would always rake in a new pricy item. Shifty was one who'd become attached to the possessions he claimed, so it was natural that he'd be choleric when coming home to find him shuffling through the trunk. Exacerbated further when his kin wouldn't leave his belongings be, in particular a picture of a pale skinned woman, red tendrils contrasting against her, he'd seen on billboards around the city, he'd thrown him out.

Not just figuratively, but literally.

He'd grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the door, and shoved him down the steps. In only his vest and thin shirt, Lifty would add.

The night was lit, golden lamps shed their light generously out apartment windows, but they gave no warmth to him. The crisp, nippy winter air swirled, carrying fallen leaves and scraping crumpled newspapers on the road. Sky clear overhead save for a few ominous appearing clouds, he was still incapable of seeing the distant white dots that he'd heard showed up at night. He had not seen them for . . . he hadn't ever seen them. He would have lingered on the sidewalk and stared longingly at the navy blue atmosphere, if it wasn't for the sheer chill.

Streaming lights dying the concrete in soft orange and yellow tints, Lifty kept his eyes turned downwards as he stalked from the house. His anger would have rose like the mercury in a thermometer on a hot day, but his thoughts were turned to the sharp coldness that penetrated and froze even the marrow in his bones. Goosebumps arose on his arms as he fiercely rubbed them to preserve his warmth.

_I don't even know where I'm going,_ he thought_, all I know is that I want to be away from that dick. He acts like I set fire to everything he owns, what a little girl._

The street was empty, disregarding the yowling cats that sat on the fences, singing their songs to the ever listening moon, and a bustling man who hurried into his car upon seeing the oncoming thief. Even from afar he knew that mask from the wanted ads in papers and on the news, but he hadn't the nerve to report him. That would be asking to get killed and he didn't want that.

With the car speeding off the street was truly deserted, Lifty left to think on where he could spend the night, preferably somewhere heated. His pockets were empty, his wallet on the dresser where he'd left it, and his phone had been disconnected for failed payment. He couldn't call anyone anyways, they'd turn a deaf ear or be too frightened to listen to the bandit. The downsides of being an infamous robber—you lost whatever meager amount of friends you started with, mostly from betrayal, and you couldn't just waltz into a hotel looking for a room without being pounced on by cops.

Lifty sighed. No way would he be staying outside, sleeping on a park or bus bench and using newspapers as sheets. And he wouldn't be jumping a sewer dweller for his grimy, worn down sweater or cap. Shivering and upset he was, but desperate and pumping himself to get in a fight with a half drunk, easily angered, aggressive homeless man he wasn't.

It was then that the oranges turned brighter, changing into a faint white. He turned his eyes up, catching the flashy billboard that read "Joe's Cafe! Tonight Only, Live Performance by Scarlet!". Not only did the flashing bulbs surrounding the name capture his curiosity, but the long, smooth legs that led to a ruffled skirt helped. The skirt was matched with a body hugging bodice, naked shoulders curving up in a slim throat that flaunted a choker, a diamond cut jewel dangling off a loop its only eye catcher. Well, what it rested above might have been the real eye catcher, below it being the woman's scantily hidden chest.

Curled hair was cast around her, the shocking red a contribution to her name. At her rounded face, lips pursed in a slight pout and eyes holding the most calling stare in the depths of the ruby pools, he recognized her as the picture his brother had panicked over.

"Scarlet," Lifty mused, already forming an idea of how he could get back into the house. A picture from her would be an "I'm really not sorry but I need to come back" gift for Shifty. He would get it somehow. Smiling because he held prior knowledge of a short cut that led to the cafe, he backtracked his steps and vanished in the dark of an alleyway.

**xXx**

"Ms. Scarlet, you look lovely with your hair styled up this way."

She knew she was lovely, stunning even, but was a cafe the best gig her manager could book? The place was for poetry readings and somewhere that sold cappuccinos that wouldn't cost you an arm and a leg, not where she would have thought to perform at. She had put her foot down when a previous performance was scheduled to be at a nursing home, along with firing her manager for being a dolt.

The new manager had proven to be her best yet. The man was a tech geek, know it all, perfectionist sort of guy. Always pushing his glasses' rim up and combing back his teal hair, he would guarantee that she was given the best of the best. He wouldn't settle on anywhere old or unpopular—but yet, there she was, in what she imagined to be a hastily put together back stage, having her hair done and eyeing a bulb on her mirror that had blown out.

Her hair stylist, who was also her part time secretary and friend, had given her the compliment to reassure her that this performance wouldn't be disastrous. It could be worse, she could be giving a show outdoors, the icy winds hitting her and her unable to get to shelter for almost a two hours.

"You really do," her violet haired stylist said, grabbing a silky strand that had fallen away from her tightly bound bun. Tucking it back in its proper place, she undid the curlers used on the front two pieces of hair. The voluminous spring-like locks bounced up to frame her face and cause the stark contrast the sudden color always gave when compared to her paleness.

"But no one who's preeminent will be seeing me like this," the performer curtly replied. "I don't know _why_ Sniffles had to book me here, it's so . . . public. So now I'm performing for everyone? Before it was the ones who could pay enough to see me in show. And it's not like we're exactly _charging_ people to watch, does that man want to go bankrupt?"

"Well," her assistant covered the finished hair with overly generous quantities of spray. "It is for a good cause, Ms. Scarlet, you seem to be forgetting that any money made here will go to the children who may be, well, not as capable of handling their lives as much as others. Plus the cafe said they'd give a donation too, it'd be a small thank you for having such a known guest sing here . . ."

"Lammy," her snappish tone had abated into one that was calmer, quiet, the voice her assistant rarely heard anymore. The singer turned in her chair, gazing firmly into her lavender eyes. "I told you don't have to call me 'Ms. Scarlet' like the others do. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm still Flaky," she caught the flash of disbelief in her friend's face before she swallowed it down. Frankly, it hurt. "I-I'm still me, so I don't know why you've been treating me differently since Scarlet was created . . ."

Lammy snorted as if she had told a funny joke and began dusting her cheeks with blush. "Please excuse whatever comes out of my mouth because I don't mean any offense. You're my friend, but also my boss and I kinda need this job."

Flaky tensed for anything she'd have to say. Lammy, whenever given the chance, reprimanded her without hesitance.

"I don't believe you when you say you haven't changed." The brush strokes were light and even despite the growing anger she withheld in her grip. "You're always telling me that you are still the same person. You really don't know how much that makes me want to throw up and laugh at once. Personally, I think this Scarlet character is a disgrace to the real Flaky."

Flaky would have objected and put her two cents in, but Lammy spoke on. "She's just another snobby singer who thinks she can have anything she wants, and that it'll be served on a silver platter to her. She doesn't care who she's showing her talent to as long as she's getting paid big for it. And lastly, she didn't even keep the promise made to me."

With each word about her cover up, Flaky grew both offense and a new pang in her heart. It was all true, but what could she do about it? "I-I'm sorry Lammy—"

"No, no, there's no need to apologize. I knew this would happen back in high school when you started thinking outside of the box, wondering how big you could get this career to blow up to. Really, don't apologize." Her brows were knitted as she finished her work and moved to applying crimson lipstick to her peachy lips.

"But I really don't see how I've changed, I don't feel any difference in myself."

Lammy stepped back, admiring her work and inspecting for any mistakes she made. "That's the thing that really irritates me. You're the one who's changing and you can't even see it. Such an idiot girl."

"Hey! J-just because I haven't seen it doesn't mean I'm any stupider than I was before! You have no right to call me that—"

"See, right there." The girl sighed and began packing the cosmetics and hair supplies. "The old Flaky would have never lashed out because I called her an idiot. She'd take it as a joke instead of to the heart. But of course, I'm talking to Ms. Scarlet so I must watch what I say."

Flaky narrowed her eyes, disliking the snide tone her assistant had. "You know, maybe it's better that I took on this abrasive side. If I hadn't, I'd still be getting walked over by everyone like some sort of doormat. I didn't enjoy that, you know. People would always think of me as some shy . . . naive . . . girl who was too frightened to show her real colors. But with Scarlet, I can be who I want and not be told to get back in line."

"You're wrong." She threw the bag over her shoulder and walked to the door that read exit over it.

"What?"

Lammy stopped, hand on the door, and smiled half-heartedly. "Scarlet is just a shield you hide behind just so you can pretend you're the queen. A person that everyone has to bow down and listen to her every whim. You were sweet as your old self, the part that wasn't fake. It was genuine Flaky, and you only had to say something about being a yes girl, you didn't have to go and create—"

She stopped and waved, pushing the door and leaving into the damp alleyway. "My day's over, I'm going home. Tell me how this performance goes tomorrow, unless Scarlet is too high and mighty to talk to me." Her sardonic laughter was shut off as the door closed.

Flaky, solitary and feeling friendless, forsaken even, turned back to the mirror. It reflected the picture of a beautiful, rich woman who wore pearl earrings, silk elbow length gloves, and with looks that could lure any man to fall in love with her. But behind and beside her, there was no one. No friend, no family, no being who she could rejoice her prosperity with.

Lammy was the only friend who had stayed by her all through middle and high school when she'd been the new kid, a stand out nobody who they all considered a freak because of her hair color. She had come from a secluded town in the east, the kind where everyone knew your grandmother's maiden name and could remember the day you skinned your knee as a child from the top of their head, and been made fun of for having that twang accent. Even the buck toothed, freckled boy who looked more like he'd come from the same place laughed as she gave an oral report. But Lammy had been her light, the flame that guided her in the dark tunnel.

Together they had made a pact, promising to stick with one another and keep no hostile feelings should the other succeed in the career they both aimed for. Being a singer. Flaky always was the more talented girl, her love and ambition the main factors for why she was where she was present day.

True to her word, Lammy had stuck to her like glue when the record label called and offered her the deal of a lifetime. She'd been there while the redhead recorded her first song; she'd seemed so pure under the lighting, her eyes closed in bliss and her heart filled with content. She was there at her first performance at their old high school and each one after that, including the show she'd put on in Time's Square on New Year's Eve just half a month back. And she was there, unfazed, when a wave of people came clawing to be her friend. Each was fake, phony, imposters, and Flaky found that out soon enough.

Nobody wanted to see a timid, covered girl these days, though. They wanted a woman who was willing to show skin, be risky and daring, an assertive role model that they could be inspired from. And for that to happen, Flaky knew she needed to change her outwards appearance least she be thrown to the curb like garbage. New York was a city that could eat you alive and spit out your pulpy remains, it didn't have room for just another nameless face. Scarlet was formed then, similar to an alter ego.

The outgoing woman was a scream, her clothes were skimpy and made people notice her, and her diva attitude was all the rage in gossip magazines. Nudity, profanity, on the arm of a hot guy every week, the New Yorkers ate it up. She was soon the talk of every jealous woman, lusting man, and inspired child—what she inspired them to be though . . . It wasn't her concern. She grew an image of being the rebel chick, a spontaneous sweetheart who could be a devious back stabber if she so pleased to.

The attention was good. It was all she ever asked for. So why, whenever she heard talk about how amazing Scarlet looked in a video, which was shot practically in the nude, did she feel hollow inside? As if she were missing something vital to her life, an object she hadn't had since the start of her flourishing job. When she prodded at the hole too long, it would fester and expand, her chest aching until she quit focusing on it. The pain was there, numbed and at a temporary standstill, but hurting whenever stirred up. She didn't understand, she had everything she ever wanted at her fingertips, but she felt so empty.

"Ten minutes until you go on Ms. Scarlet." She was interrupted by the voice of the cafe's manager. "Are you ready?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I am." She dabbed at her moistened eyes. When had she started tearing up? "I-I'll be out there soon, just give me a few moments."

"Alrighty, take your time." The manager left, her teary eyes and croaky voice going unnoticed.

In the front of the cafe, couples and singles sat on couches, the stools at the small bar, and tables meant to seat two. They leisurely spoke or turned magazine pages, enjoying steaming cups of Joe and hot chocolate. The heated liquid warmed them thoroughly, welcomed by the stragglers who had braced the winter winds. Slowly at first groups of folk began filling and occupying every open chair in the, albeit, cramped cafe, and following closely behind one group, cautious his face wouldn't be seen, was the kleptomatic twin.

Lifty went to the bar instantly, the bells that chimed his arrival annoyingly loud and almost screaming that he was a convict. To others he was simply another individual who had come to admire the singer. He hoped that they'd keep oblivious, he needed that photo if he was to get back in the warmth of his bed. A scream that alerted every one of his status would lead to twenty calls to the police and him wandering the streets aimlessly.

Seated on a stool, he kept his head angled to his lap, waiting a near seven minutes before the manager walked onto the stage. He put his chin on his fist and counted how long it took for the older man to get his formalities and introductions over with.

_121—122—Infinity._

"And without further ado!"

_Finally._

"I welcome you the fabulous, gorgeous, talented singer! Scarlet Pine!" Lifty straightened considerably, the room bursting in claps, whistles, and hoots as a woman clad in a long sleeve dress walked out. The howling grew to unbelievable levels as she spun in a teasingly slow circle, putting on display the lowly cut back of her outfit for every eye to witness. It was Scarlet in the flesh, just ten meters away from him, and the billboard hadn't exaggerated on her flawless beauty.

"Holy fuck," Lifty let out involuntarily, catching the disapproving glares of a female and her companion. It wasn't a wonder his brother—who usually could tell what girl he would pin down by just her looks—would be fussing over a picture of her. Curvy body, large eyes that sent subliminal messages to every male in the crowd, and a famous title, she had it all.

But there was something there, Lifty detected a hurting in those sparkling eyes, a pain as she blew kisses and grabbed the mic. Though as she began singing, her soprano voice hypnotic and silencing the room, the pain ebbed away. It was replaced with tranquility, calmness, fear of nothing except the stopping of the lyrical words itself. The lines cast a spell, painting a scene that played through their minds, and entwined her emotions with theirs. Hand and hand they traveled through the music that fooled them with its fast and happy beat, but its sorrow filled meaning.

It was during one line the lyricist sang that Lifty couldn't help but feel like he knew her face. The picture and billboard; that must have been why he felt he'd seen her somewhere. No, that wasn't it. What was it?

_"You all cast adoring glances in my direction,_

_But none ever try to get to know me,_

_Why?_

_I'm not just a pretty face,_

_Yet you treat me like I'm a goddess, some Oddessy._

_These perfect things, the crowds I've known, it's all worthless in the end,_

_Still you don't understand who I really am."_

The cafe's guests were unaware of the shine in her eyes that wasn't a result of the light's glare as she finished. They were all the same, they only listened to the song but never understood the meaning behind it. Why even try anymore? They would give her their affections even if she sang of killing them all. Brainless, mindless, imbeciles, all of them.

Flaky bit her lip and smiled weakly at the clapping crowd, ready to get off the stage and prepare herself for her next song in half an hour. Scanning the faces that looked so identical to the next, she was shocked when she saw one who wasn't clapping or showing any signs he appreciated her performance. His curious emerald orbs pierced into hers behind the mask, a forbidding edge to them. She wasn't scared, her interest to why he wasn't acting like the rest overcame her rationality as she stepped down. Her feet carried her around the tables, the loving cries and gazes disregarded as her main focus was the man.

"You're amazing Ms. Scarlet!" an energetic girl squealed out.

"You too," Flaky replied distantly, sparing not even one glance towards her admirer. As she neared the black sheep her confidence wavered. She felt the stares on her back that waited to see what she would do, would she turn around or go on to talk to the masked man?

"Hello," she said, marveling at how nervous she was to be the first to begin a conversation. She sat on the seat to his left, analyzing him as he did the same.

"Hi," he responded huskily. It wasn't long before a smirk grew, the man wondering out loud, "Now why oh why has the almighty Scarlet graced me with her presence? I'm confident in the knowledge that I wasn't clapping, so why don't you go sit with your number one fan?" He nodded his head at the teenager who had complimented her. "She seems like fun, and I think I heard her screaming for you."

Rude was her first impression of him. It should have ward her away, but the fact that no one dared be rude to her was enticing. He could hold himself while in her presence, unlike the others who caved like collapsing tunnels. "I'd rather not," Flaky coolly answered, shuddering at the girl's pimple covered face. "I came here because . . . because . . ."

"Oh, so you don't have a reason Ms. Hotshot? Because I doubt you came to me because you want an idle chat. Is it because I wasn't clapping? You wanted to see everyone clap for you, eh? Well your wish is my command~" Lifty started before she could say otherwise, feeling satisfied at the color that rose to her face as he smacked his hands together in a drawn out, mocking clap. Perhaps it wasn't smart to infuriate the diva when he still needed that picture, but he couldn't help it.

"Well that was uncalled for." She reached for the soda the manager had graciously set down, seeing how she wasn't leaving the spot soon. She hadn't even touched the glass before his hand curled around the cup and he pulled it towards himself, raising the rim to his lips and ignoring that it was hers. Watching as he gulped down the drink in one swig, she mustered up her meanest glare. "Hey! What was that for?! That was _my_ drink. And _you_ drank it."

"Way to point out the obvious, sweetheart, I think you deserve a gold star for effort." He whistled for a refill on the drink, clearly unaffected by her stare. Rather, he found it amusing. As the newly filled cup was delivered to him, he sent her a side smirk, "Don't do that, you'll ruin your adorable little face. Why don't you smile for me like you do for the magazines? Maybe your visit will stand out in my memory, maybe~"

Flaky watched as he tilted the glass to his mouth, steamed that now the man who she thought might me remotely interesting was dissing her. Acting on impulse, her fingers grazed the cup's bottom and bumped it up. It was mean even for her, but the jerk had deserved it.

She smiled as Lifty coughed at the onrush of soda, holding the cup from his lips as he tried hacking up the liquid that traveled down his wind pipe. It happened in the span of two seconds, Flaky hitting his cup, Lifty choking and sputtering, and the splash of soda that hit his pants and shirt. The fizzy drink soaked into the clothes instantaneously, the wet circle growing over his zipper and moving to a stop at his mid thighs. Sticky and dripping now, he tried glaring but couldn't hold the stare with the wracking coughs.

Flaky, with the look of being pleased by a naughty action, shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry about that, it was an accident~"

"Y-you," Lifty started, then thinking better of it, waited for his cough to subside so he could hiss out, "You, why did you do this?"

"I said it was an accident~! I'm so very sorry, maybe next time you shouldn't be taking what was meant for me."

Lifty, shaking off the soda drips from his hand, glowered. "Just because you're a star doesn't mean you can do what you want. It also doesn't mean that you can't get on my bad side. Sweetheart, when you're on my bad side, you better expect some misfortune. Now are we going to be a polite little bitch and walk away?"

"Ooh a threat," giggled Flaky. "And just because I'm a star doesn't mean that I can't have a bad side as well, and Mr., you just made top listing. Consider yourself lucky that you're number one for something now. How does that make you feel?"

At the witty response, Lifty suppressed a smile. The singer had spunk, he would give her that, and she lived true to her diva name. Leaning back on the legs of the chair, he shut his eyes. "It makes me think that you aren't all that you appear to be, if your song was no implication. Now, what's your real reason for sitting here? Am I really _that_ attractive?"

"As if," Flaky muttered, giggling at how he opened one eyes to glare half seriously. He wanted her true reason . . . How would she respond to that? She couldn't say that the rest of the crowd were simpletons who followed the trend of the world, he would think she was crazy. Sighing, she put her elbows on the counter and sunk down. "You wouldn't listen if I was to tell you."

"I've listened this far, go ahead and shoot. I bet your story won't be a real shocker."

"It's pretty long though . . . I wouldn't want to bore you . . ."

"Right, cuz you've been doing a bang up job of not doing that so far~" His smile was joking, but the sock, though it didn't hurt one bit, he received wasn't. "Okay no abuse Red, just tell me what's bugging you."

And that's how she told her life's story to a man she had barely met, and he seemed to actually be listening.

**xXx**

"Alright, one last question."

Two hours they'd been talking, taking breaks only for her song numbers, and she had spilled almost everything she had to him. In return, he told her what she wanted to know about his life, but he hadn't focused too much on the areas that intrigued her most. He had come from a broken home, his mother was a drunk who he didn't miss, and his brother was a fan of hers. Lifty still hadn't brought up the picture as they stepped out into the below zero weather. Maybe he would, but he'd have to sneak it.

Flaky shivered as the freezing air touched her bare legs, wishing she'd taken Lammy's advice and worn a sweater. Both in the same position, neither having coats of any sort, they knew the other's predicament. Their breaths foggy and the car meant to be her transportation honking as they spoke, there was only time for one question.

"O-okay," Flaky's teeth rattled in the cold. "A-ask away."

"What's your real name?"

"W-what?"

"I said 'what's your real name?'," Lifty said, shifting from foot to foot to gain some warmth. "Because I don't believe that your name is Scarlet, I just don't. So what is it?"

"Why w-wouldn't you believe that my name is Scarlet?" she asked cautiously. Flaky was such a soft name that would fade into the background, Scarlet was a name that left an impression. It was bold, mysterious, and unique. It was the name that started the idea of the singer being a go getter, not a sit back and let people trample you person. Lammy was one of the few people she trusted with her birth name, and though she shared her story with this man, she wasn't sure she would have liked to give him her name.

"You don't look like a Scarlet." It was a simple but true answer. "That's all."

"W-well just because I don't look like it doesn't mean anything," her answer was bitter, catching him by surprise.

Guessing that was an off limit zone, he backed away from the subject. The breeze picking up and suggesting that it'd soon be windy, something he knew neither could withstand, Lifty looked to her ride. "Oh, well, I guess you should be going before you catch a cold. If you ever need anyone to talk to about your problems . . ." The invitation was open to her.

Flaky nodded briskly, feeling that her nose and toes were already frozen. "I-I think I m-might take you up on that o-offer some day. T-thank you. B-bye." She turned towards the car where Sniffles was impatiently waiting for her, only to have a heat creep up her arm from her hand. Hesitantly, she looked back at the masked man, but the warmth was moved to her lips.

His rough look was only that—a look. He was tender, not demanding like she would have expected, as a calloused hand came up to tilt her chin. The spark was undeniable, and if Flaky wasn't mistaken, that was a sure sign of something.

What was it a sign of? Her brain had gone dead as she stared into the depths of his emerald pools, his breath heating her cheeks. They grew hotter, hotter, they were flaming. That couldn't only be from his breath, she realized. Was she blushing?

Lifty pulled away, pretending that she was the only one who was red despite feeling his own face burning. He dropped her hand and paused to give her a chance to recover and speak.

"W-what was that for?" Flaky stammered. "W-why would you—?"

"Your lips were turning blue, so I heated them up~" It was plausible, and he hoped that she'd buy it. The weight of the phone-and new picture for his brother—in his pocket was heavier than he remembered as he pushed her towards her manager. "And I think it'll get you through the night, if it doesn't, call that number and we'll talk. Don't worry about how late it is, I'm sort of a night person anyways~"

Flaky looked in her hand, Lifty leaving her, and took the number he slipped into her hold as his. She could call anytime she wanted to . . . and she didn't even know what his name was. There was hesitation in her voice as she called, "H-hey! Thank you, r-really, thanks. And, um, F-Flaky, it's Flaky!"

Lifty glanced back, slowing to a stop. "It's no problem. What was that last thing?"

"Flaky, t-that's my real name. F-L-A-K-Y, Flaky, b-because you wanted to know. I also never got your name, which is . . ?"

"Lifty, mine's Lifty." The smile he'd grown was turned into a frown as recognition dawned on her. So she knew who he was, and she'd be calling the cops at any second now. He waited, but she did nothing but nod shyly. Huh, so she wouldn't go running off to turn him in. This girl could actually be interesting.

"L-Lifty. Okay, well it was nice meeting you, and I'll be sure to give you a call one of these days. I would l-like to talk to you again." A memory from the past rose to the surface of her mind, and it got her to smile. "Is there a-any chance that you went to the middle school just a couple blocks from here? The one w-with the principal who couldn't count p-past ten?"

He nodded and began asking himself where she was going with this.

Flaky's smile grew. "I remember you then. Y-you and your brother, S-Shifty if I'm remembering correctly, would always take my lunch money. And I remember—" The smile vanished and turned to slit eyes instead. "—and I remember y-you two always stealing my homework! A-all the time! A-and I'd work really hard on it too . . !"

So that was where he recalled seeing her face at, that made sense. Thinking back, there was this brainiac redhead who the twins always riled up. She would get so angry, it was an adorable sight, and probably why they took little things from her each day. Before she could take off her heels to throw at him, Lifty grinned widely and continued walking down the street.

The coldness that whipped around him wasn't as biting anymore, for it felt as though a warm jacket was draped around his shoulders. He looked at the empty night sky, still expecting the stars he wouldn't get, and pressed an index finger to his lips. From his place, he could see the first snowflake fall from the clouds and swirl away with the wind. A cold night it was, but he felt warm. She was special, but could a conman and a star ever be?

"Flaky, that's a nice name."

**xXx**

**This feels so incomplete even if it took a hella long time to write. It feels like I wrote the first chapter of a story instead of a oneshot, why!? D: So I called her Scarlet Pine because, well duh. Her hair color, and Pine is part of "Porcupine" :p **

**To Blue Banana: I have not even written Flaky with more than one character, what makes you think I could handle an orgy of about fifteen?! Are you TRYING to kill me?! DX**

**Up Next:**

**NuttyxFlaky (platonic) /T/ Bitter for Ratty4949**

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Lollipop for CrysTALLIA**

**FliqpyxFlipped!Flaky /M (for gore)/ Revenge for xXxVampire-HimexXx**

**Tiger GeneralxFlaky /T/ Camping for boony832 **

**NuttyxFlaky /T/ Jealousy for CRYstal**

**FliqpyxFlaky /M (for smut)/ Clarity for Guest**

**AntsxFlaky /T/ Creepy for beejebuz**

**OCxFlaky /T/ Fear for Tommy-The-Panda**

**PopxFlaky /T/ Jailbait for Crystalalala (yeah, I didn't know what to do for your name xD)**

**FliqpyxFlaky /?/ ? for htf fan (can I at least have a word? I have a plot and I want to see if the word causes it to need a higher rating :P)**

**FlippyxFlaky /T (possibly M)/ Cannibal for Guest**


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